Courage
by Twubs
Summary: Everything changed for Hadvar when a soul from our world hijacked his mind and body. One thing is for sure, no longer will he be a simple Nord. Non/Dragonborn! SI!Hadvar Multiple!OC!SI
1. Act I: Chapter 1

Hello everyone,

I know I literally just told everyone that I wouldn't start a new story right off the bat because I would be working on my own original story but I lied I guess, deal with it idk. This story has an aspect that I really want to try so I'm going to do it. It will definitely be bigger than Stronghammer, and most likely Voleur D'âme also. With that being said I will try to update once a week to

I have actually made a lot of progress with my original piece of work with the character and plot, which is the hardest in my opinion. I just have to worldbuild now and flush it out a little bit before I actually start writing chapters. So don't worry about me not doing it because I am!

Anyway this story is about a realistic take on someone from our world (me) getting thrown into the body of Hadvar while he was being stationed in Markarth. It will get AU really quick to be honest.

Let's see how it goes!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

I woke to the sound of banging throughout the barracks. I jumped out of the small cot and grabbed the blade leaning on my cot, unsheathing it in one full motion, ready for a raid. It took me a moment to regain my bearings and look around the barracks.

_Dwemer architecture. _"You're in Markarth now Hadvar, get a hold of yourself." I mumbled to myself as I sheathed my imperial iron sword back where I grabbed it from.

_Wait what? Blade, barracks? I'm not in the military. _A part of my mind called out.

I felt the cot encompass me just as an mind splitting pain ran throughout my whole body, originating from my brain and traveling down through my torso, arms, legs, and finally feet before shooting back up.

My head shot up and I realized that I had fallen back down onto the cot. I looked back to the room for the second time, taking it in with greater detail than I did only moments ago.

_Wow, Dwemer architecture in real life. That can't be gold, right? Some type of alloy? Or maybe just painted gold. _I thought to myself trying to come to terms with myself.

I shook my head and looked down at my body. I wore the same imperial light armor that all Auxiliary's are issued by the Imperial Legion. I wore the same armor that Hadvar wore in the games.

_No not games, this isn't a game Hadvar. _I thought getting my thoughts straight and in order. _This is your life now. _

The realization hit me like a ton of bricks. I almost fell back onto the cot once again but managed to keep my balance.

_I'm in the Elder Scrolls, specifically Skyrim. _I thought before panic set in. _Oh Talos ...Alduin returns, the Dragonborn, Civil war, vampires, the first Dragonborn. Skyrim is about to go through hell!_

I shook my head once again and tried to focus on my thoughts. _Focus on what you can control. What's going on right now? Guard duty, patrol, graveyard shift until the sun comes up and I'll be relieved. _

I grabbed the sheathed iron blade still leaning on my cot. The leather felt familiar in my hands and I relaxed a moment, using it as strength. I inhaled and exhaled.

"Start moving, distract yourself." I mumbled as my other hand reached out for my water skin and wrapped it over my shoulder. It came to rest on my right hip, like a satchel.

"That's right Auxiliary!" I heard from the entrance to the barracks. "Get your ass moving!"

I sprang into action, obeying him as almost six months of training kicked in. I ran the sheathed sword in my hands through the belt loop on my waist with a practice motion.

"You may be good with a blade, but I won't have any men slacking on my watch!"

I nodded just as I passed the ugly scarred nord and into the next room that served as the mess hall. "Yes! Legate." I said trying to placate him.

_I must have been laying there for longer than I thought. _I realized as the bowl that the barrack cook set out for me wasn't steaming like normal.

I grabbed the bowl and kept walking towards the door that would lead into the night air and towards my patrol duty. I didn't even bother using the spoon in the bowl and instead brought it to my lips, getting a mouthful of chicken, potatoes, and broth.

_Protein and carbs. A soldier's meal for sure. _I thought, passing the threshold out of the kitchen.

"You will wake with the bell next time auxiliary, or you will deal with me." The Legate of the night shift called out just as the door closed.

In the games, Markarth was a smaller city divided by a river. One side held the reachmen, the other side held the nobles. This basic principle was the only thing that even remotely matched the description of the city in front of me.

To my left, hundreds of lights dotted the mountainside, each one, the light from a window in a house carved into the side of the mountain. And those were only the ones that I could see at this time of night. I knew from my memories that there was a whole other city inside the mountain, at least five thousand nobles called the mountain their home. Rarely did they venture into the streets and on the other side of the river.

I turned right thinking about the river and looked out past it. Buildings lined the streets in a surprisingly orderly fashion. As orderly as can be expected on a mountain.

The barracks stood closer to the mountain than it did the entrance to the city. So I had a good vantage point over the mid to lower class citizens. I could see the gaps in between the buildings that made up the roads and alleys on the way to the front gate. At least another forty thousand citizens lived in the direction.

_Something tells me that Skyrim is more massive than the games even hinted at. _My brain supplied. _And that something is my memories. _

My body moved forward, to the district I had been assigned two weeks ago when I arrived in Markarth, fresh out of basic training.

"Well, time to get to work."

* * *

The sun peeked over the horizon, sending its rays into the city and bringing about the start of a new day. A new day for people who hadn't already been up for six hours.

I was just relieved by another guard who would serve another six hours. This whole schedule would be mirrored in the different districts of the city by close to twenty-five hundred guards. And some said we were undermanned.

My feet moved but not in the direction of the barracks, I just walked, looking at the city and taking everything in. I had yet to memorize the layout so this was a part of that and also an excuse to think.

_Helgen hasn't happened yet. I know that for a fact. _I thought, trying to find my place in Skyrim's timeline. _No word from the College of Winterhold either, no news of the companions change in leadership. Stormcloaks have gotten more bold but nothing big and nothing about the thieves guild. Definitely nothing about the DLC's. _

I continued to ponder, not coming to a conclusion. _So it's fairly safe to assume that I am before all of those events, by how long? I'm stationed here in Markarth for the next six months, then they may rotate me and they may not. Such is the life of an auxiliary in the Imperial Legion. _

I stopped walking. _Alduin, the first dragonborn, Lord Harkon, all of them are so powerful. Hell even Ulfic could blow me away with a shout right now. _My mind told itself.

_I could go to more important, more powerful people, but would they believe me? Would they try to interrogate me for everything I know? I can't take that chance._

The whole night during my shift I came to the same conclusion. _I can't tell anyone. _

But then what? I may be from another universe, but I am still Hadvar. In fact I might be more Hadvar than anything else. And I love my homeland. I'm a nord through and through. I refuse to just stand by and watch as my people burn because of the actions of powerful men. I only had one option.

Get powerful, and quick.

_But how? The most broken thing in the games was the Thu'um right? But only the dragonborn could get strong, fast with the Thu'um. For everyone else it takes a lifetime of study. _I pondered as I went through my options.

_No, not the Thu'um. _I ruled the option out quickly.

_Magic is the only other option. _I thought to myself and I raised my hand instinctively.

I breathed in deep and closed my eyes. I summoned my own magic to my skin, just as my uncle taught me in Riverwood. Just as most nord children are taught. A euphoric sensation washed throughout me and I realized just how long it had been since I tapped into that side of me.

_Heat, the sensation, the feeling, focus, feed it your magic and finally…_

A flame appeared in the palm of my hand.

_...Will it into existence._

The flame was a small one, about the size of a candle. Has it really been so long since I lit a campfire? Since I lit the forge with his uncle in Riverwood?

"_Every nord knows this, son. I use it everyday for the forge, hunters use it for campfires at night, and magicians use it for much more terrifying things." _Uncle used to say.

"_But uncle, I thought magic was bad?" _I would ask him.

"_You're right, but we must do this to survive."_

I shook my head, breaking myself out of the tiny flashback.

_This couldn't light parchment. _I thought, seeing the tiny flame in my hand.

The magic in my skin left quickly and without warning. The flame died out with it. I blinked at my hand in astonishment.

_Already? I ran out of magic already? _I realized.

I could already feel my magic start to fill back up. If I could compare the feeling to something it would be like a water faucet slowly dripping into a bowl. It might fill up in a day…

I frowned.

_This is going to take some work. _

My feet kept walking until I soon found myself in front of a building that looked eerily familiar.

It was the crypts. Nord's are notorious for their reverence of the dead. Death isn't the end for Nord's. It leads to Sovngarde, and your deeds throughout your life define where you go after that.

_Shor's Hall for me. _I thought immediately. I spent a millisecond pondering on the fact that I still believed. _Well if the games are to be believed, it's real. _

"It's closed, milk-drinker."

I looked to my left and saw a nord. He wore blacksmithing garb, something I recognized from my time living with my uncle. He looked like he was nursing a hangover.

_Must have just woke up with the sun. Stormcloak supporters, they're the only ones with big enough stones to call us milk-drinkers to our face. _

"Why?" I asked, ignoring the insult. I tried not to let my shock at my deeper but still smooth voice show.

"Che. A guard in the city and you don't know about the desecration of our dead? Fucking imperials." The nord walked off, obviously having enough with the conversation.

It didn't bother me, I knew why he thought of us that way. The legion abandoned Markarth during the war against the Aldmeri Dominion, allowing the rebellion to happen. Then Ulfric Stormcloak conquered it again, bringing peace to the city before we strongarmed him into giving it back to us.

The nords of the city, which made up ninety percent of the population, resented us for it. I didn't blame them.

My memories flared of a quest in Skyrim that resembled the same issue. Something about cannibalism?

I took a long look at the crypt and memorized where it was in the city.

_I'll take a look at it tonight._

* * *

_Finally. _I thought to myself as I walked up to the crypts. Apparently I didn't memorize the location as best as I could because it took the better part of two hours to make it to the location.

"Alright, let's see what's going on." I muttered as I walked down the steps to the front door.

I pushed on the stone door, expecting it to be barred on the other side. It swung open without hardly any effort.

The noises hit me immediately.

"Hahaha…."

"Mmmmmmmm, yes!"

I walked forward with a frown on my face. I took two steps into the crypt before I saw a glint and a fast moving object to my left.

I reacted and ducked the swing. My fist curled instinctively and I noticed the body in front of me, moving past with the momentum of their swing. I lashed out and my fist connected with what felt to be the attackers ribs.

_No shirt? _

I felt and heard the cracking of a couple ribs sound out. My attacker hunched over in pain and I drew my sword in preparation.

They whirled around with a hand on their ribs, bringing their sword around to point it at me. My brain pointed out the flaws in his footing and balance. I knew this would be an easy fight.

I brought my sword to mirror him and pointed it at him before crouching into a stance that had been beaten into me since I was a boy. He took that as a sign to charge.

A straight stab directed towards my face.

"_Never backwards, move side to side, get the angle." _

I moved towards my left and redirected his blade to my right. My wrist twirled and I thrust. His body sunk to the hilt on my sword, right where his heart should be.

The man, obviously not a nord, grunted and looked down at the sword impaling him before meeting my eyes. He fell to the ground dead in the next few seconds.

I pulled with a grunt of my own and his body slid off my blade, lifeless.

"What was that?" I heard farther into the chamber.

"Imperial Guard. You're under arrest for the desecration of these bodies. Please come peacefully." I called out into the shadows.

_What I wouldn't give for a magelight right now. _I thought looking into the darkness.

Luckily a torch appeared from behind a pillar and a person shuffled into the room. Followed by two more. All three had blood around their mouths, as if they had been chewing flesh, which they most likely had been doing.

_Two male, one female. Two axes, and a sword. _I sounded off in my mind as they took a look at their fallen companion. _The lookout. _

"Put your weapons on the ground." I said, hoping they would obey and I wouldn't have to fight the three of them alone.

"You killed skeeter." The man to the right said in shock.

_Skeeter? What a horrible name. _

"He attacked a member of the Imperial Guard, he would have hanged anyway." I told him confidently.

Fear clutched at my gut, the adrenaline that was coursing through my veins slowed down for a moment and I glanced at the body to my right. Bile rose up in the back of my throat. Sure I had seen people die, in both lives, but to actually cause it? It was unsettling, revolting.

_Steel yourself. _I told myself and my eyes hardened. The bile in my throat slowly slid back down my throat. _He attacked you. _

There were no more words spoken. The two men behind the women drew their axes and approached. As they got closer I could see the manic look in their eyes.

The woman stayed back watching with an ecstatic look on her face.

I expected them to come as a team but that was thrown out the window when the man on the right charged the last ten feet wildly, leaving his companion behind him. He swung and overhead chop with his axe.

I mirrored him and charged forward, into his guard before he could bring his axe down. I swung parallel with the ground and connected with his ribs. I felt a little resistance with my blade but with a little effort I cut through leaving him with a deep cut that severed his right lung. He'd bleed out in seconds.

The second man was smarter and attacked just as my sword left his friend's body. I had to contort my body to avoid most of the damage and his axe found my stomach. Luckily my light armor absorbed most of the blow. I spun away with a thin cut and a tattered piece of armor.

Once again he proved why he was the smarter of the two and pressed his advantage. He swung overhead, trying to split my skull in two. I blocked it with my sword on the wood of the axe and spun again leading with my elbow.

His nose crumpled under my elbow and he fell to the ground dazed but not unconscious. I moved with my momentum and stabbed him through his back and out his chest, nearly impaling him to the ground.

I removed it from his body and adopted a defensive stance expecting another attack. I didn't have to, the woman was still standing there. If the look on her face was ecstatic earlier, now it was euphoric.

"Throw your sword on the ground." I commanded as I wasted no time in walking forward to her.

She shook her head. "Join me."

I actually stopped at the absurdity of the suggestion. "What?" I managed to get out.

"We can feast on them, they're fresh, look." She answered me with a point of her finger.

I didn't fall for it. I was close enough to her now that she would have to draw soon or surrender.

_Footsteps behind me._

I turned around and brought my sword up. The second man, the one I nearly impaled to the ground, was two strides away with his axe raised. Blood ran down his chest in a river.

In the back of my mind I heard the sound of a sword leaving its sheath.

I knew I had two attacks coming at once. I dropped my sword and once again stepped into the guard of the man approaching. My hands found his wrist on its way down, I lowered my body and braced.

His torso hit my upper back because of my positioning and I pulled the arm down while twisting his body off of mine, hip throwing him. He went ass over tit and crashed right into the outstretched sword arm of the woman trying to stab me in the back.

She jumped back fast enough to avoid his body, but he hit her arm and she dropped her sword. My hand had already wrenched the axe from his hand and I swung without thinking.

The axe hit her neck and I expected my swing to be too weak to push all the way through. It separated skin and bone like a hot knife in butter. Her head rolled on to the floor at the same time the man below me went limp.

I looked around for the next attacker, seeing it in the shadows. I was wrong, there was nobody coming. I sucked in a huge gulp of air and closed my eyes as I exhaled it.

"Fuck!"

* * *

"What the fuck were you thinking!?"

I looked up from my cot, where I had just finished sitting down after taking my shirt off. My Legate stood there entering the room. I jumped up and stood at attention with my hands clasping my forearms behind my back and my chest out, eyes forward.

"I wasn't, Legate." I said intelligently but truthfully to the commanding officer.

There were four other men in the barracks, all of us were preparing for bed because all of us had graveyard shifts. I only knew the blonde man's name, Dagfinn, he prefers to be called Finn.

"Damn right you weren't. That was a right stupid decision going down there alone, what if there would have been more?" He was in my face, spittle flying everywhere.

"Either I would be dead, or they would be, Legate." I told him, getting a little angry.

"Oh?! You think you're Tiber Septim now that you've killed four cultists, huh? Could they even swing a sword properly?" He retorted but I knew it wasn't a question so I stayed silent.

"Now that that is out of the way. Good job out there, every man I sent to check the situation out couldn't get a lead." The Legate, whose name I still didn't know, told me flipping a complete one-eighty on me. "Next time, get another man to go with you, or three."

I stood a little taller at the reinforcement. "Yes sir!"

"Good. The Jarl wants to see you. Apparently the woman was a known leader of a cult of Namira worshipers." The Legate continued and there was some shuffling of the other men in the room.

The Legate's head swiveled around and landed on the other men also standing at parade rest. "Don't give me that shit, auxiliaries. Especially not you Bjorn!" He reprimanded with a point of his finger. "This man actually did his job."

He turned back to me. "That's why, as of this moment, you are now promoted to Quaestor."

I blinked at the promotion. _It's that easy? _I thought at his proclamation. Quaestor isn't much of a promotion, but they do commision you boots and greaves. The best part is that it immediately put me on the day schedule, allowing me to attend march and weapon training at will. That along with a five coin promotion a month made it worth it. That put me up to two-hundred and twenty coins a month. Not a lot when you consider the price of spell tomes, but we'll take every bit we can take. My purse was already full with the few coins I swiped off of the cannibalists. My purse was currently sitting at about three hundred.

"Thank you sir!" I nodded, happy at the opportunity to work on my sword play with the weapons master. Theoretically I could have done it with my current schedule, but I would be missing out on about two of the four hours he is available in the morning, and I would have to lose sleep to make his afternoon sessions.

"Good work, soldier. Now get dressed." The Legate said turning around and walking into the mess hall.

_Oh right the Jarl. He'll have just heard about it. _I thought, realizing that the sun had just risen over the horizon.

_I'll miss sleep today. _

The Jarl sat on his stone throne, deep in the bowels of Understone Keep. It was obvious that the room we stood in was only an entrance for the underground tunnels that made up the real Dwemer city beneath our feet.

My Captain and Legate stood on my right side, with me being all the way to the left. We stood at parade rest waiting on the Jarl to enter the throne room.

_He's probably eating a lavish breakfast. _I thought, bitter of my own meal of tasteless protein and carbs.

_At least my body agrees with it. _

It was true, this body was packed with muscles like corded steel, and although I didn't have a defined six pack, my stomach was flat. My new strength was obvious, considering my previous fight where I beheaded a woman with an axe.

"Captain! A pleasure to see you again." A voice said.

I looked to see Jarl Igmund approaching his throne. His gait was not one that proclaimed royalty. Neither did it show that he was a deadly man. It looked like he had been sitting on the throne too long. He had become soft since the war.

"My Jarl." Captain greeted. It was the second time I heard the man speak, and my assessment of him being a soft imperial stood. He was a boy but he was my age, in his twenties. Rumor has it that he got the promotion because of his families connections, not on merit.

_The Imperial Legion needs work. _I thought to myself after observing everyone the past few days. _Not enough discipline, too much corruption. _

"Don't give me that, boy." The Jarl said and it took every ounce of my willpower not to laugh. "Have you cleared the Forsworn yet?"

The Captain's eyes tightened, angered. "No, we simply do not have enough…"

The Jarl cut him off just as he sat his soft ass on his throne. "I am not interested in excuses, just results, Captain."

_Oh shit. _I thought to myself. _Funny but neither of these people have my respect yet. _

"Of course, my Jarl." The Captain responded. "I have the guard you asked for."

The Jarl's eyes roamed over the Legate to my right and landed on me. I met his eyes like a true nord would and held his gaze. His mouth slid up in a smirk.

"Where are you from kinsmen?" The Jarl addressed me clearly.

I stepped forward, stone faced and with my hands clasped behind my back. "Riverwood, my Jarl."

He nodded, obviously knowing where the small town is. "I heard the reports. You fought well, and did me a service. For this you have my thanks, and a boon of your choice, within reason."

As tradition dictated I denied him. "It was for honor my Jarl. Had I fallen, Shor's hall would have welcomed me."

The Jarl actually smiled, and I could tell I impressed him. Now if he insisted, I would be forced to accept.

"No doubt, you would have dined with heroes." He said traditionally. "But I insist."

I nodded at him, truly grateful. "I have some interest in magic, my Jarl." He didn't outwardly react, but I knew he was skeptical. My superiors behind me looked at me sharply.

"I would request access to your libraries."

It was a bold move, and a request I had no business asking of the Jarl. But nords respected bravery and boldness, so it was a calculated risk. His face didn't immediately turn to disgust, which I took as a good sign.

He leaned forward, looking deep into my eyes. I held his gaze as he thought. It took a good moment for him to make his decision.

"Very well."

I tried not to smile. I managed a grin.

"You will have access to it, but you may not remove any of the books held within. Nor will you teach anyone what you see inside these books. Magic is a dangerous art, son, and is frowned upon for a reason." Igmund said. "You will only be able to access the most basics of the art at first until my court wizard, Calcemo, approves your advancements."

His requirements were expected. If he would have allowed me to remove the books, it would have changed everything.

"My thanks, Jarl Igmund." I accepted respectfully.

"Now leave, a courier will arrive with your writ of entrance."

* * *

A/N: And so we have the first chapter of my new story. It didn't take me long to flush out the plot in my notes, and that's when I knew I had to put it out here for you all to see.

Now as you can see, Hadvar will not sit on the sidelines waiting for the Dragonborn to arrive. He has the beginning stages of a plan. For now it's just gain power, as he'll need it. It will evolve as the story progresses.

What did we think about it? Have I portrayed Nordic culture properly? What about the changes made to Markarth? The local issues are still there but the scale will be ramped up to eleven. And the forsworn are a threat also.

Let's talk in the reviews!


	2. Act I: Chapter 2

Hello everyone,

Here we go with Chapter 2! I am blown away by the amount of support this has gotten over the past week and couldn't be happier. This fic wasn't even on the radar for me to start until one day it crawled out of my brain and demanded it be told.

Anyway, on to the chapter. Authors note at the bottom.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

The wooden practice sword felt heavy, as heavy as a normal sword and while I knew that was a good thing, my brain told me that it wasn't right. My legs felt heavier, weighed down by the new boots that had steel rising all the way to below my knee. Each of my arms had new gauntlets strapped to them, the iron made their presence known.

I gripped the weapon and gave it a few practice swings before nodding and looking across the sparring yards. My opponent, Bjorn, stood across from me. He had dark rings under his eyes.

_He's been up here everyday for the past few days, and he still has the night shift. _I thought looking at his tired form.

He instantly gained a certain amount of respect in my eyes. Any man willing to work himself to the bone for his craft is a man I can understand, and maybe even grow to like.

"Begin."

Bjorn was a nord through and through. He gave a yell and charged me, it was laughably easy to send him to the ground after lashing his backside with my sword.

The weapons master stood there with disgust in his eyes. He was a skilled swordsman, and his knowledge of other weapons far outstripped my own, but he was also an asshole. He made no attempt to correct Bjorn, content in watching him get his ass kicked.

I caught his eye. "Are you going to teach him what he did wrong or am I going to have to?" I asked with a bit of anger in my voice.

He stared back at me unblinking. I got all the answers I needed out of him. I turned back to my opponent, who just stood up and was breathing hard.

"Bjorn right?" I asked him.

"Yea." His voice was deep, much deeper than my own, and even though it wasn't loud, I could tell it would travel far.

"Why are you here?"

He turned to me and I could see confusion written all over his face. "I'm here to serve Skyrim."

It was a typical Nord response. Most likely he joined for the easy job and the respect you automatically get. Then there were those who enjoyed the power trip also. It was much the same for public servants in my last life.

"So am I." I agreed. "But that is not why I am here." I continued and pointed at the ground we were standing on. "I am here because I want to get better, I am here because I demand excellence out of myself."

He hung on to my every word. "Now I'll ask you again. Why are you here?"

He broke eye contact. _Bad, never do that in times of uncomfortability with nords. _I reprimanded him in my mind.

"Da died in the war and left me and ma by ourselves. I hated him growing up, but ma always respected him. Never been too good at fighting, we were hands growing up. Figured I wanted to fight, and the respect isn't bad either." Bjorn replied.

_Not the full story. _I deduced. _But good enough, he'll tell me eventually. _

"Good, so you have motivation." _Even if it is shallow, I can work with it. _"And you have good instincts. Attack first is a good plan only when you have the advantage of surprise, even then you should do it with caution."

"Now, adopt your stance." I barked as I finished my small lecture.

He frowned, obviously not knowing what I was talking about. So instead of explaining I walked over to him. I stopped beside him and turned till I was facing the same way he was. Then I bent my knees slightly putting my right foot behind my left. My hands brought my imperial sword up in the air pointing at an invisible enemy.

"The imperial sword is a shorter sword than some of the other designs you'll see across the land. It's made up of less malleable iron in the middle of the blade, giving a really strong base. It is double bladed, meaning that both sides are sharp and it comes to a deadly point. It is a weapon that is good at cutting motions." I paused my speech for a moment to perform a diagonal slash.

"But where it really excels is it's stabbing ability. This sword, though only made of iron, will pierce through almost any armor. It may not CUT through any armor but it will PIERCE through most."

I dropped down into my stance once more and waited. Bjorn didn't move. I turned my head towards him and shot him a look that sent him moving in action.

"We're going to practice the basics. So now we thrust." I told him performing a textbook thrust into an invisible enemy's breastplate. When I drew back, I fell into my stance naturally.

Bjorn didn't need me to look at him this time and he thrust. It wasn't the worst attempt I had ever seen, but then again I watched Ralof swing a sword growing up, and that man can't fight with anything but a warhammer. Bjorn stumbled for a moment before dropping into his awkward version of my stance.

"That is an important lesson. Footwork and balance are some of the most important aspects of a fight." I told him and performed another thrust.

I looked over to Bjorn to see a glint in his eyes and a smile on his face that I hadn't seen before.

_Is this all it takes, a little instruction? _I wondered, watching him.

"Good, that's good. Now you need to perform that motion over and over again until it becomes instinct. Let's go over all the basic motions." I said.

"Sir!"

I stood up and turned towards the disturbance. It was a boy with his hand outstretched towards me, inside it contained a rolled up scroll.

"From the Jarl, sir." The boy said.

I took the piece of paper from him. "Thank you." I said. He nodded to me and then took off in the opposite direction, the pack on his side told me that I wasn't his first or last stop of the day. I mentally berated myself for not giving him a coin.

I looked around the field to see that Bjorn and I were no longer being watched by the weapon master only. Instead I found a dozen other men looking at me and Bjorn as we practiced. I swept my auburn hair back with one hand and sighed.

_Is that all any of these men need? Instruction? Someone to show them the path, the way? _

I made out Finn's blonde hair in the crowd too._ Another one up too early or too late._

"Well, get off your asses and get over here!" I barked out the order, my mind made up.

I saw at least seven of the men outranked me, I didn't care and neither did they. They all stood up and made their way over.

"Stand beside Bjorn there, give enough space to perform the maneuvers. Good!"

I moved in front of everyone so they weren't craning their necks. I showed them the gladius-like weapon in my hand and pointed to it. Everyone present carried the same weapon, although some had custom hilts, either of a different design, or painted. Some even had tassels hanging off of it. Their sheaths varied even more.

"The imperial sword is a shorter design…"

* * *

I straightened my body and wiped the sweat off of my brow. My head swivelled around the training grounds, looking at the twenty men in front of me. I realized that I knew nothing about them.

_In my previous life, a unit was family. Each willing to take the sword for the man next to them. These men would grab a mug of mead and laugh as you were ran through. _I thought to myself about the state of them. Even now they fought over water at the well.

My anger rose a touch at watching them bicker and my feet started moving of their own accord.

_Fuck it. _

I reached the first man, I had yet to have a proper conversation with him and didn't even know his name. I did know that he was an absolute monster, he stood about six foot nine, and wore an equally impressive longsword on his back. He had been training all morning, but not with us. The other man was Bjorn, and I felt a stab of disappointment until I heard the topic of conversation.

"No longer!" Bjorn roared to Finn.

"A single sword lesson and you think you can go against our agreement. You're still scum, _Breton._" The man hissed out to him.

_Bjorn is definitely not a breton. _I disagreed. Bjorn stood about two inches shorter than me. And I was around six foot four.

"What's this all about?" I spoke up to the giant.

His head whipped around, giving me a great view of his ugly mug. He had black hair that fell past his shoulders.

"None of your business, milk-drinker."

"He's been making me cover his district, along with my own at night. It's the reason I hadn't been able to get to the crypts." Bjorn hissed out. "I told him I'm done with his shit."

I nodded at him, hearing everything I needed to.

"So you're lazy, ugly, and a bully." I said staring the giant down.

He showed his teeth to me and I looked for any signs of him outranking me. I found none, in fact he didn't even wear the imperial issues gauntlets or boots, giving me the impression that he fell below me in hierarchy.

_Good. _

His hand moved to my shoulder. "Don't touch me." I warned.

The giant gave a hearty laugh, it echoed throughout the grounds.

I ducked the fist coming my way, expecting it. My hand balled on instinct and I exploded into an uppercut that connected right below his sternum. I had to move out of the way to avoid the mountain of flesh falling to the ground.

He sank to his knees holding his stomach. He was obviously having a hard time breathing, if the wheezing was to be believed.

I crouched low, getting into his ear.

"That shit stops now."

I stood up and looked around the training yard to see just about everyone staring at me again. It was actually comical the way they met my eyes, then looked down to the body at my feet and then they looked away, going about their business.

_Good. _I thought, returning Bjorn's nod as I walked away.

_Magick awaits._

* * *

_Understone Keep. _

I took my time walking through it's grand halls. The ceiling extended high into the air, or should I say stone. Although I could tell it was stone, it was carved so perfectly that one could easily mistake it for something other than the mountain that surrounded us.

Gold pillars rose on each side of the rooms, reaching to the ceiling. It was obvious to me now that it was the same alloy that made up dwarven machinations and weaponry. They obviously knew more about metallurgy than any of the other races.

_So powerful the deities of this universe banished the entire race for daring to reach for the heavens. _My mind supplied as I continued walking towards my destination.

I moved through the halls with grace, as if I had done it many times before. It was all an act. This was my first time going to the library, or any library in this universe. A part of me was giddy at the proposition.

I had a new addition to my wardrobe, a satchel that carried my writ to get in the library, my waterskin, a journal, some writing utensils, and a disinfectant potion for the cut on my stomach from the fight with the cannibalists.

I arrived at my destination after a few missed turns, though it was mainly because of my awe at the palace.

I walked up to a golden dwarven door that had six guards stationed around it. Guards that I didn't recognize.

"Halt." One called out and stepped forward. "Writ?" He spoke simply.

I reached into my satchel and pulled it out, their hands strayed close to their weapons at the action. I unrolled it so that he could see it. The seal of the Jarl glared at the man, even through his visor.

He nodded to me in acceptance. "Imperial mage?" He wondered.

It was a fair question, I was dressed in the typical imperial garb, including my new boots and gauntlets to get used to the weight.

"No, Quaestor. Two weeks into duty in Markarth." I explained and all six of them nodded in sync. I almost made a joke about it.

"Go ahead then, there are a couple of people already there."

I did as he said and stepped through the massive doors. I don't really know what I was expecting before, but I was not expecting it to be as big as it was. There were close to twenty rows of bookshelves, filled to the brim with books of all kinds. The library was oval in shape and the closest thing to the door were the tables laid out for people to read and study at.

The left ten rows had the symbol for the Dwemer race, and golden covered books rested on those shelves. Four middle shelves had the runes for history and biographies. Finally the rightest most rows had the symbol of the arcane, and under that some had the symbols for the different schools of magic.

I must have had awe written all over my face because the other people in the room took notice.

"Largest library in the holds, outside of the college of course." A feminine voice at the tables said.

I looked to see a woman in mage robes. She was absolutely gorgeous, and her face told me that she had elven heritage.

_Breton. _"Nobody told me." I responded. "I expected a library of maybe one-hundred books."

She let out a small laugh. "No wonder you were gaping like a fish. Imperial battlemage?"

I got the same question as earlier from the guards. I shook my head at her. "No just a normal Quaestor with a curiosity for the arcane." I moved towards her and extended my hand. "Name is Hadvar."

"Arellia." She said offering her hand. Now that I was closer I could see that her eyes were icy blue, as if they were plucked out of the sky. Her silvery blonde hair fell beyond her shoulders.

"A pleasure to meet you, would you mind if I bothered you if I am having difficulties?" I asked politely.

Her eyes twinkled at me, and I knew I was dealing with an intelligent one. "Sure, anything for a Novice."

I smiled at her for a moment before I noticed the chuckles from the other four people in the room. _She is being sarcastic. _

I forced the smile to stay on my face. "Well, that is fair I suppose. Happy hunting!" Just like that I moved past her and towards a desk on the opposite side of the room as her. I set my things down there and got out my journal and pencil. The trader had ink and quills, but I had been writing with pencils and chalk on metal for most of my life in Riverwood, no use in changing now.

After setting everything up I moved over to the arcane section. I looked through the sections for a good fifteen minutes before choosing even one. In the end I grabbed the introductory tomes for destruction, illusion, restoration, alteration, enchantment, and alchemy. Everything but conjuration.

"No."

I turned to the speaker quickly. It was an old man with a white goatee standing beside me.

_Calcelmo. _I realized.

"Pardon?" I asked.

"No destruction, no enchanting, and no alchemy. You may have the others, but until you can prove to me that you are capable of such knowledge, you will be limited to the simpler aspects of magic." Calcelmo answered me.

He held his hand out expectantly. _Is it worth making a scene? _I wondered looking down at his hand and then back to his eyes. The old man met my gaze evenly, obviously used to dealing with nords.

I didn't answer him verbally. Instead I handed him the books he asked for. Then before he could leave I snatched another book that I had been eyeing off of the shelf.

'_Magickal theory and techniques of casting.'_

Calcelmo's eyes trailed the book, reading the cover quickly. He once again met my eyes and nodded, obviously respecting my choice. Then he turned quickly and returned to wherever it was that he came from. On the way out, he told the guards of my limitations rather loudly.

Once again there was chuckling and giggling in the library. Ariella's eyes followed my form, tinkling with amusement all the way. I ignored them.

_Let them laugh. Soon I will outstrip all of them._ I thought as a surge of motivation ran through me.

I looked down at my choices in tomes and quickly selected the one about magical theory. My big fingers struggled to find purchase with the pages, another embarrassing fact. Eventually I got to the front page.

'_Found in the unnamed journal of an unnamed archmage sometime during the third era.' _

_ 'It is a fairly simple concept to realize that our bodies merely conduct the magic around us, our mind and will bend it into affecting the physical world around us. Our bodies store a set amount of magicka, drawing it in from the air around us. This amount of magicka will increase greatly the more one uses it, much like an arm that has gotten used to the weight of a sword. Our magicka can adapt to our needs, it can become incredibly dense, incredibly vast, and incredibly efficient._

_ The different areas of magic determine which of these our magic will become. You can safely assume that it will become more vast, regardless of which area you specialize in, as long as you're properly training it. However, the more subtle arts, such as Illusion or Alteration, will make your magicka incredibly efficient. Masters of the subtle arts have the best control over their magicka, because they are forced to. The more destructive magicks cause our magicka to become more dense, as the spells increase in difficulty and destructiveness. Although masters of Destruction lack the refined control that can otherwise be learned. _

_ I have set out to find a way to combine the two aspects and apply it to any aspect of magic. I have succeeded. In the following pages, there will be several examples of techniques I have found that allowed me to eventually become archmage.'_

My eyes lifted off the page and I let out the breath I didn't realize I had been holding.

_No wonder Calcelmo looked at me approvingly, this is a gold mind. _I thought looking back down to the book.

'_Meditation._

_ This technique I call meditation can easily be mistaken for the act of clearing one's mind. I admit that it is similar, hence the name, but also fundamentally different. It requires constant mental work to keep it up. I should note that this and the following techniques increased my magicka capacity ten-fold over the course of a year. And I was already an expert destructive mage. I imagine, for a novice, it would be closer to twenty or thirty-fold over three quarters of a year, an astronomical difference. _

_ One does not need to adopt any pose. It is simple in theory, and difficult in practicality. In theory, it is constantly expelling and intaking magicka. Simple. Now, the expelling of magicka will come naturally to you, as it does to all beings in Nirn. But the intake will require some experimentation. I have heard it being described like breathing, and it is a good example so we shall use it. Draw your magic, expel a small amount, and try to intake the same amount from the air around you.' _

The page ended and I stopped writing my notes as I realized that this is where I was supposed to actually try it. I dropped my pencil and closed my eyes instinctively.

My magic crawled to my skin, like a snail. I held it there trying to gauge if some leaked out. Some did. I expelled a little more from my body and let it dissipate into the air. I focused on the feeling of it leaving. It felt a lot like the book described, breathing.

I inhaled and tried to get my magic to do the same. It didn't, in fact it seemed like I lost a little bit more. I frowned and tried again. Once again I had no luck.

Instead of focusing on the breathing, I _looked_ at my magic again and expelled another small amount. This time I noticed that my magic seemed to _flow_ in a certain direction. It stemmed from my core, somewhere in my abdomen and spread outwards in the direction of my limbs and skin. The _flow _was simultaneously in the same direction and opposite directions.

I focused on halting the flow completely.

_Success. Now let's go backwards. Failure, not possible, my entire being says to never try that again. _

I backed up mentall and tried a different approach.

_What if we kept the flow going but instead of drawing it back from the air to the points of expulsion, I focalize it in the spot I could feel in my abdomen. _

I did just that, I exhaled my breath and magic. And when I inhaled, my _core _inflated also and I felt the smallest trickle of magicka leak back into my system. It was a constant flow, coming in from the outside in one point and flowing to the other points in my body.

I didn't open my eyes, instead focusing on the feeling of my _core _inhaling. I did the action again and I produced similar results.

I smirked thinking of all the people in the room laughing and giggling at me.

_It's over for you bitches._

* * *

I knocked on the door three times. I waited for a few moments and during those precious few seconds I used meditation to exhale and inhale magicka. It was such a miniscule amount, which made sense considering it had only been a few hours since I was in the library.

"Come in."

I opened the door immediately and walked into the office. It had two glass windows on the farthest side, one which was open slightly, letting some air into the room. A bear rug laid across the floor, leading to a fireplace that wasn't currently lit.

The Captain of the Imperial guards of Markarth sat behind his desk scribbling away at some parchment. I closed the door behind me and stood at attention in front of him.

The seconds passed away and with it many many moments. I just focused on the technique of improving my magicka to pass the time. I knew it was a power play, he wanted to make sure I knew I was on his time. I also knew there were several ways around the power play. One way would be to take control of the situation and dominate the conversation. Another was to act so nonchalant about the situation that the power fell by the wayside because it was so insignificant. I chose the latter.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Rinse and repeat.

"Well you're patient at least." The Captain's overtly imperial voice called out. I didn't respond, determining it was not conducive to finding out why he called for me.

"Do you know why I summoned you?" He asked.

_Summoned, indicating that once again I am on his terms. Fucking power plays. _

"No sir." I replied simply. _Play the good soldier, rise through the ranks. Take his job when the time comes. _

"You are a good soldier. My observations of you from the past few days tell me that. One that can and will rise through the ranks given the proper teaching and opportunity." He commented.

I didn't move, didn't react. Inhale. Exhale. It was therapeutic. "That is kind of you, sir."

"So why then do you want to become an Imperial mage?" The Captain asked out of nowhere.

"I don't follow sir." I responded. I knew how he could make such a deduction, but I have a role to play.

"Oh don't play coy. Why else would you want access to the library?" He asked rhetorically before continuing. "I know it seems like a good gig, doing research and wielding a staff instead of a sword, no responsibility. Better pay, but you get blackballed real quick if you're not powerful enough. The ranks of the Imperial Mages are a snake's den, did you know that? Almost impossible to move up."

I tried my best not to sigh at him. He was working off of so many assumptions at this point it was becoming tiring.

"I do not wish to become an Imperial Mage, Captain. I just want to protect my men as best as I can." I told him truthfully.

"Your men?" The Captain repeated. "My men, you mean."

I wanted to reach across the table, grab him by the throat, beat him senseless and tell him that he didn't hold the men's respect, and he had no real power. I would tell him that the Captain title is earned not given. I didn't.

"Of course, Captain." I responded. "Your men."

"So what do you want?" The Captain asked then, now that my intentions were revealed.

"I want a more unified Skyrim for the storm on the Horizon. I think the best way to do that is for a stronger, more disciplined Legion." I told him truthfully.

"Do you think us ineffective, Quaestor?" He said my name mockingly.

"Permission to speak freely, sir?" I asked back before responding.

"I insist."

"Yes, we are ineffective, inefficient, undisciplined, and just outright embarrassing." I answered him honestly.

You could have heard a pin drop from a mile away it became so quiet in the office. The Captain's eyes bore into mine. He let out a small chuckle before he picked his quill back up.

"Get out quaestor, do your job and I'll do mine." The Captain dismissed me quickly.

"Yes sir!" I answered and left him as he asked.

_Incompetant shit-stain._

* * *

A/N: Boom! Another chapter in the books.

So we got some magical theory in. Personally I liked it, and before anyone asks, no this won't make him OP. It is simply a way for him to train his Magick to be a well oiled machine, that's it. He will still have to learn wayyyyy more magick to become a force of nature that he needs to be.

Hadvar is helping everyone with their swordplay, apparently everyone is incompetant in Markarth. I wonder why? What do we think of the library? What about Ariella? Does she have any part to play? What do we think about the Captain?

Let's talk in the reviews!


	3. Act I: Chapter 3

Hello everyone,

We're back with another chapter, and one I am happy with. I have a good feeling about where the story is going, and how we're going to get there. I guess I should stop being surprised about the support from you guys too, y'all are just the best.

Anyway, I have started an instagram for my writing! The handle is wtmcdonaldauthor, I've been posting somethings about my writing and I plan on doing some other things with it. I'll be posting things when I get time to sit down and write, so expect one or two a week. I'll include when I'm updating stories, along with my own book collection and recommendations. There might be a rare peek at my original fantasy series in there somewhere also.

On to the chapter! Authors note at the bottom.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

_The marketplace is bustling today. _

The morning started off as any of his previous had. Wake up, eat a protein packed breakfast, train with the men, and go on duty.

_Hopefully my afternoon will be filled by continuing my magickal practice. _I thought as I practiced meditation, flexing my magick.

Already, my magick had nearly doubled in size in the week that I had been practicing. Not nearly enough to be considered a battlemage, but enough that I considered my growth more than normal.

_Maybe it's the fact that I do it subconsciously now. _I considered as my magic flexed with meditation, in rhythm with my breathing.

"Marketplace is unusually crowded today." Bjorn said at my side.

We stood off to the side of a stall in the marketplace. Our eyes roamed over the crowds the entire time. And it was a significant crowd. Once again I was amazed at how scaled up the world seemed to be from the games.

The marketplace spanned at least three blocks, and merchants from all over had rented stalls to show their wares from all over Tamriel. Most traveled from High Rock, and their fashion mirrored this, but another significant portion came from Hammerfell and Cyrodiil. The most popular stalls were the ones selling foreign clothes, showing off the different styles of the 'states' of Tamriel.

The next most popular were the food vendors, then the weaponsmiths. The least popular were the stalls which had a magical nature to them. At least three different merchants had stalls full of enchanted weapons, daggers mostly, books on magic, and enchanted jewelry respectively. While the weapons drew a decent crowd, the others had maybe twenty customers a day and most of those were nordic children curious about the art their parents warned them so much of.

"Aye, I considered sending for more guards." I answered Bjorn but not looking at him.

Bjorn tensed as if he saw something suspicious. "Damn, kid got the purse." Bjorn commented and I looked to see a black haired boy, nearly a young man, walking quickly in our direction. "You want it?" He asked.

I nodded and stepped forward, turning my head the opposite direction as the boy so as not to spook him. He never saw me, instead his mind was busy stuffing the purse he had just cut into his pants.

I took a step forward just as he neared and grabbed his shoulder. I felt him tense under me and his head whipped towards me. We met eyes and my grip tightened enough to let him know I meant business.

The boy's eyes glanced around my body, taking my uniform. He paled and I could see he was making the decision to bolt. I quickly called my magic to my skin and put my mind in a state of controlled _calm_. Then, with a pulse of magic in all directions, I _projected _the emotion.

The illusion spell took hold, not only on the boy, but the people around me.

"Give it here, and we can forget about it." I spoke before the spell could wear off and he made a bad decision.

He gulped and his eyes flitted all around him. I could see the internal struggle in his eyes. Once again I tightened my grip on him. The boy still couldn't meet my eyes but eventually he nodded at me and reached inside his pants to retrieve the stolen purse. I tensed, prepared for the dagger that he inevitably had hidden on him.

His hand produced the coin purse and I thanked Talos that he made the right decision. I swiped it.

"Hold here for a moment." I told him and his eyes panicked again. Once again I cast the _calm_ spell with a burst of my magic. It took hold as my hand dipped into the purse and pulled out three septims, enough to feed his family for a week. I dropped them into his outstretched hand and turned around at the same time, pretending not to see him. He darted away quickly.

Seven steps brought me back to my post beside Bjorn. I held the purse out to him, as he had seen the man it belonged to. "Return it." I ordered, leaving no room for argument. "Tell him he is short three septims."

Where once, earlier in the week, Bjorn would have taken offense at the order, he grabbed the purse with a smile. It was amazing how much teaching the men everyday had put me in a place of leadership. I was careful who I ordered around, making sure I had rank. I suspected that all of the men who knew me would obey regardless of rank.

Bjorn chuckled. "That'll teach him to leave it hanging so carelessly. Must be a Silver-blood." He commented as he walked off.

_I should've given the boy more if he is a Silver-Blood. _I thought to myself and my eyes started scanning the crowd.

My eyes locked onto a woman, obviously nordic, approaching a known Silver-Blood merchant. She had red hair that was cut stylishly around her shoulders and a build that told me she was raised as a traditional nord. She stood around five-eleven, maybe six foot and the way she walked spoke of martial training. She leaned over the table in front of her to speak to the merchant.

Next my eyes were drawn to a man, on the opposite side of the market. He was dressed in a white tunic, and dark brown breeches. He had a sword on his waist. While this was not uncommon, in fact it was more common than not, my gut told me to be on guard. He was staring straight at the red-haired woman, and making a bee-line through the crowd to her.

I started moving immediately, weaving through the crowd, and forcing myself through when people wouldn't move. Most took offense until they noticed the uniform. Normally I wouldn't lord my position over people, but my gut told me to make it to the woman before he did.

Luckily I was closer to the woman than he was and reached a crowd of people close to her and waited. I blended into the crowd. I didn't need to, as he took notice of nothing else but the woman's back.

At ten paces from her, his hand reached for his sword and started the motion of drawing it. I did the same and drew my own in a fluid motion, quicker than his own draw. Then I moved forward.

At five paces form the woman he bellowed out. "The Reach belongs to the Forsworn!"

The woman turned to him, startled at the proclamation. Then he started the motion for a thrust, aimed at her heart.

I never let him get close to her. I impacted his right side and a couple of things happened at the same time. My left hand, the one without my sword, grabbed his thrusting wrist, stopping it dead. My left leg came up and I kicked his feet out from beneath him while twisting his arm around, to help him get to the ground faster.

The man yelped in pain as I got close to snapping his wrist before his body obeyed and fell with the twisting motion. Then I was on top of him as he laid on the ground, with my knee putting pressure on his neck. I considered killing him then, but a distant memory in the back of my mind remembered this being fairly important in the games.

I whipped him in the temple with the butt of my sword before he could even realize what was going on. He crumpled, unconscious. His sword clattered on the ground as his hand went limp. I wasted no time rolling him over onto his stomach and wrenching his arms behind his back so that I could put shackles on him.

By the time I did this and stood up, Bjorn and the blonde-haired Finn approached, brought by the commotion. They had their hands on their swords, but didn't draw them seeing I didn't need it.

"Take him to the cells for interrogation." I commanded.

I looked past them to see the crowd of people huddled around our scuffle. I called up a bigger portion of my magic and cast the biggest _calm _I could. The best thing about low-tiered illusion magic was that it didn't have any signs of it being casted, unless you could sense magic. The wave of magic spread from my body to the crowd of onlookers.

"Everything is fine here, folks. Go back to your business." I yelled out to them.

Most obeyed, although I saw a few people giving me and the man on the ground some stares.

"Excuse me, sir." I heard a feminine voice say behind me. I turned to face the woman whose life I had just saved.

"Yes?" I asked. She had a different shade of red in her head than I did. Hers was the typical ginger look, although it was tamed to fall straight down to her shoulders. Her eyes were sky blue, and freckles sprinkled her face. She was surprisingly attractive, not as striking as Ariella was, but that was a whole different type of beauty.

"That man almost killed me. You saved my life." She said, obviously a little in shock.

I smiled at her, trying to calm her. "All in a day's work, ma'am." I told her as I stepped forward. "Are you ok? You seem to be in shock."

She barely had to look up at me, unlike most other women. She started to say something, but she struggled before getting it out. "I think you may be right." She raised her hand up and it visibly shook in the air.

I started to reach for it before I paused. "May I?" I asked.

_The earlier wave of calm must not have affected her. Why? Did the shock override my spell? Was it too far away? _I analyzed hoping to test it a little further.

She nodded and I grabbed it sending a much stronger wave of calm through her body. It took effect immediately and she yanked her hand back, reflexively.

"Sorry." I said, noticing her reaction. "Just trying to help."

She shook her head once she realized her reaction. "No it's fine, I needed that." Her voice was much more firm and assured now that she was calm.

_This might be my favorite spell. _I pondered.

"I should have warned you. We are suspicious people." I said trying to comment on our shared heritage.

"Yes, exactly." The woman spoke and I noticed that she must have been from a well off family because of her proper speech. "I'm Margret."

"Hadvar." I greeted with a nod. Then I realized that I should be getting back to my post. "I should leave you to your business, I have more work to do."

"More women to save? Here I thought I was special." Margret quipped.

I laughed. "If only I could be so lucky." I told her as I turned to leave on the clever comeback.

"Wait!" She barked. I turned back around and her hands were around her neck, untying a necklace from her neck. "Take this, please."

The part of me that was not a nord wanted to deny her, but I knew tradition dictated that it would be rude to do so. Especially from one of the opposite sex. The only time it was appropriate was for people of obviously higher station than oneself, such as a Jarl.

"This is too much." I commented as I bent my head down so that she could clasp it around my neck. It was a small emerald set into a circular medallion, much smaller than the games actually showed. I could cover most of it with my thumb.

Her arms reached around me and she got a little closer than was needed to complete the task. I was not complaining, considering my eyes found her cleavage because of the angle. She must have noticed because she leaned into my ear. "Silver-Blood inn, second floor, fourth door on the left." She said with a smile on her face, then she turned around and started talking to the merchant again.

_A nord through and through. _I thought a little dumbfounded at her offer. _Nord women go after what they want. _

I turned around, conceding that she won our little bout of flirting. I was about to walk off when I noticed that the attacker's sword was still laying on the ground. I reached down and picked it up not wanting some kid to grab it and get hurt. My hand touched the hilt and I immediately knew it was different, it was warm to the touch.

My magick reached out to it instinctively, and I fed magic to it. Small symbols appeared near the base of the sword and ran up the length of the blade straight down the middle. The first rune I recognized.

'Fire'

* * *

"Well, I can tell you that it is actually steel, not iron." The rough orc told me as he eyed the blade. He went by the name of Moth gro-Bagol, or Moth for short. He was the lead imperial blacksmith for the whole city, and had at least five apprentices beneath him running around the blacksmiths shop.

"It is shaped as an imperial sword." I commented, as if that was all the explanation anyone needed for it being iron. That's how it was in the games, right?

"And?" Moth grumbled. "I've seen imperial swords made out of ebony before, or have you never met General Tullius?"

A part of me wanted to slap myself for the obvious answer. The designs were only based on culture, and while steel did shape into certain designs better, it didn't mean that it was stuck to that design.

"Of course, you're right. My uncle would be ashamed of my education on the matter." I commented. "He was the town blacksmith where I grew up. Never made a lot of swords, however."

"Small town?" Moth asked.

"Yes." I said simply.

"Needs horseshoes and nails more than it does swords." Moth nodded to me, making sense of the situation. "What did you say your name was?"

"Hadvar."

"You the one training the boys up every morning?" Moth asked bluntly.

"Yes sir." My answers kept being short.

Moth barked out a laugh. "Got our prissy Captain embarrassed in front of the Jarl. I'm glad. Word is you know your way around the sword, soldier."

I heard the question hidden at the end of that sentence and decided to humor him since he was doing me a solid with the evaluation of the sword.

"Aye, my uncle may not have made many swords, but that doesn't mean he didn't know his way around one. He taught me the basics, which I mastered long before I enlisted. Learned everything else I knew from soldiers and whoever else had a sword on their waist that passed through Riverwood. Practiced nearly everyday, and honed my skills." I finished, knowing he could fill in the blanks.

Moth nodded in understanding before taking one last look at the blade in his hands. He handed it back to me.

"Well, take good care of it. You were the one to take the man down, no one would bat an eye at it in your sheath." Moth told me.

"Thank you. I'll leave you to it, if you need anything, let me know." I said turning away and heading out of the sweltering room.

"Before you go. I don't have to tell you the significance of someone like him having such a nice, expensive sword do I? They may come looking for it." Moth commented.

I, of course, had already made this connection and just nodded to my head as I walked out towards my next destination.

* * *

The library was, wisely, on the opposite side of Understone Keep as the blacksmiths shop. I still didn't know how the imperial legion had managed to convince Igmund to allow their blacksmith to take up shop in the old dwemer forge. I knew that the orc must be worth his salt if he was given such a position. It was possibly the most coveted blacksmith's forge in Skyrim, right being the SkyForge in Whiterun.

The guards nodded at me, used to my presence in the library, as I walked past them. No words were spoken between us, but there was still a camaraderie that went unspoken between us.

I walked into the room and found that it was occupied by two other people. Ariella and Calcelmo, who were having a hushed conversation.

"You will need to be careful around him." Calcelmo said just as I walked in.

Ariella's eyes found mine and Calcelmo followed her gaze to me. Where his gaze was normally dismissive and condescending, this time it was contemplative and almost accepting. Ariella's eyes gave nothing away to what she thought of me.

"Sorry." I began. "Pretend I'm not here." I told them as I walked past them into the library's rows. I quickly found the books I was looking for. A book each on illusion, alteration, and restoration.

Everyday I have picked up the same book on restoration, and I had yet to get to actually reading it. Today I was determined to learn and take notes about each of the beginnings of the different schools of magic that I picked.

I quickly found my seat and opened the book about restoration. I flipped through the pages, uninterested in the introduction, and found the first chapter.

_"The first thing that should be noted about Restoration is that it is single handedly the hardest of the schools to learn. Not because of difficulty in manipulating the magic into healing properties, but rather the knowledge one must know of biology, on top of the act of actually casting the healing magic." _

"Can you stop that for one moment?!"

I looked up from my book and saw both Calcelmo and Ariella looking at me with frowns. _What are they talking about? _I wondered.

"Stop what?" I asked.

"The meditation. Those of us with magickal senses can feel you, and it is very distracting." Ariella answered for the old wizard.

_Oh. _I realized and to my happiness I had to make a conscious effort not to use the method of growing my magic. I stopped the constant flow like asked.

"Sorry, it's become second nature." I commented going back to my book.

"How long have you been doing that?" Calcelmo's quick voice said, obviously angered.

"Since I left the first day." I answered him truthfully. "Why?"

Calcelmo looked at me and his anger dropped, instead becoming inquisitive. "You shouldn't be able to do it for so long a time. We kept waiting for your reserves to run out before we said something."

"I can keep it up pretty much all day, although I'll stop for a few moments if my reserves get too low." I told him, becoming confused. "Is that normal?"

"It depends." Ariella answered. "I think he might be doing it differently. Normally it is much more powerful of a discharge, his felt small, controlled." She spoke to Calcelmo, speaking as if I wasn't even here.

"How are you doing it?" Calcelmo asked, addressing me directly.

"I compare it to breathing, just as it says. I release a small amount, exhale, most of the time not even five percent of my total reserves. Then I bring in the same amount, inhale, from the environment." I told him after a moment.

I did not see the big deal. _Isn't this how everyone does it? _

"Ah yes that makes sense. The book tells you to release all of it at once, does it not?" Calcelmo asked, taking on a teaching tone of voice.

_Oh now it makes sense. _I thought to myself about Ariella's comments earlier.

"Yes but it also likens it to a muscle, yes?" I asked him back. At his nod I continued. "So wouldn't it make sense to maximize the repetitions? It is the same concept as swinging a sword, you want the muscle memory of the movements. Since the sword does all the work, you don't actually need a lot of strength to get the intended effect. So you start slow and without too much strength, letting the blade cut. Eventually you will learn when and where to add more power or less in the movements."

As I was speaking, both of them started moving to my table and wound up sitting across from me. Calcelmo rested his arms on the table and folded his hands in front of his mouth, contemplative.

"What a fascinating way to look at it. And one only a soldier can come up with." Calcelmo commented to the two of us.

"And it would promote control, while also building up power." Ariella added on with a tilt of her head. "How have we not realized this?"

"I think we have, we just didn't care. When did you learn the technique?" Calcelmo asked her.

"I couldn't have been older than eleven." Ariella answered quickly.

_Eleven? She learned that early?! I've got a long way to go. _I thought, shocked by the information.

"I might have been a little older than that." Calcelmo agreed. "Then it was all about power, and control could come later. That has always been the approach, traditionally. Then there are other exercises to promote control." Calcelmo finished.

"So it's not necessarily better?" Ariella curiously asked, turning fully to the old wizard.

"I would say that it depends on the user. It would not be better at all if Hadvar here didn't do it all day. Only someone with the sufficient motivation and discipline could do it non-stop like that. While draining his reserves would make them grow faster, he would lose control. Yet he makes up with the difference in the growth with doing it so often." Calcelmo answered her, showing why he was the more experienced user of magick.

_Yea, I have plenty of motivation and discipline with the end of the world approaching, civil war threatening to tear my homeland apart, and the pure shit show that is the Imperial Legion._ I thought to myself.

A pulse of magic spread through the room. I knew it was magick immediately because of my newfound familiarity with my own magick. In the second that I noticed it, I realized a couple of things. One, was that the pulse of magick was _massive_, dwarfing my own reserves. Two, was that it would take me _years _to reach that same level.

My face must have shown my concern because they took notice.

"Sorry, I wanted to test it." Ariella said nonchalantly. "I still need to work on control. That was about half."

_Half?! _

"Oh don't look so flabbergasted. Breton's are known for their magick. And Ariella here is a prodigy." Calcelmo said. "Her reserves are already bigger than my own."

Ariella didn't even have the decency to blush, instead she looked smug. "Yes well, I still have a long way to go."

"And that is precisely why old Savos Aren has offered you the position." Calcelmo praised.

That surprised me, as I knew the name of the old Archmage of the College of Winterhold. "You're to be the new Archmage?" I asked, catching on to the conversation.

They turned to me. "You know who Savos Aren is?" Ariella asked.

I tried not to take offense to that. "I would like to think that I am not an idiot."

Ariella actually looked a bit ashamed then. "Yes, it appears that I judged you based on your inheritance, for that I apologize."

Calcelmo cut in. "I also think I owe you an apology. I intentionally embarrassed you the other day, convinced I might be able to chase you off."

I was surprised at their change in demeanors, just from a simple conversation. When I walked into the room, I was met with contempt, now they had a modicum of respect in their eyes for me. It actually made me a little uncomfortable for a moment before pride overtook it.

"Accepted. It just gave me more motivation to prove you wrong, something I still intend to do." I accepted their apology.

Smiles tugged at the edges of their mouths.

"Good. I will be taking over the role of Master Enchantress from Surgius Turrianus, not archmage." Ariella answered my earlier question.

"Although I keep telling her that she will be groomed for the role when the time comes." Calcelmo interrupted.

"Wow, congratulations." I said genuinely. Ariella smiled at me, and I was once again reminded of her otherworldly beauty. She would give supermodels from my other life a run for their money, and it was all natural.

A young man came running into the room, he wore robes signifying his position as an apprentice to Calcelmo.

"Master, the ambassador is here." The young man said with a bow.

Another voice echoed through the halls of the library, one that was eerily familiar. "Yes, I am." It said just as a high elf form walked through the doorway. The high elf had on the robes of a Thalmor operator. The robes of black and yellow were pristine and made of a quality that I envied immediately. Say what you will about them, but their robes were _clean._

"Hello, Ancano."

* * *

'_Silver-Blood Inn'_

I looked up at the sign and was impressed at the actual size of the inn. It had to be six stories tall, with the bottom floor blossoming out to hold the actual bar and other things needed for the upkeep of the high-class building. There were private guards stationed outside of the inn, ones that looked better served as bandits than anything.

I walked in confidently, not sparing them a glance. They stared me down but didn't dare stop me from entering. My station offered me many privileges, and while I had no doubt that the Silver-Bloods had the pull to stop me, they wouldn't unless provoked.

I walked in to the smell of smoke and mead, something that reminded me of my old life. The inn was of the highest class in all of Skyrim, I was sure none could top it. It made sense, considering the money backing it. I noticed I was underdressed but didn't let my face or body show any signs of uncomfortability.

My eyes tracked the room, taking in its participants. To my displeasure, my captain sat at a table near the back of the room, next to a man I didn't know. He had a dark-elf girl sitting on his lap, she couldn't have been more than sixteen.

_He just might die at my hands. _I thought as he lost the rest of the respect I had for him. _Right after I take his title. _

I nodded to him, and he nodded back. We were both off duty, and while I should have gone to talk to him to explain my presence and show respect, I didn't and saw he didn't want me to either.

I saw the reason I was here sitting alone at the bar, her head in one hand and mead in the other. I walked straight up to her and grabbed the seat next to her.

"Two more." I said to the bartender slapping down payment plus tip. _Always pay your bartender well. _

"Listen, bud…" Margret started to deny me out of habit, obviously used to denying suiters before seeing who it was. A smile split her face, one I couldn't help but mirror.

"Fancy seeing you here.."

* * *

A/N: Chapter 3 done!

I feel like the chapters I write are slowly increasing in word count the more practice I get. What does everything think about it? Is it the quality increasing, or something else?

So a lot of people will recognize the quest that was 'started' when Hadvar saved Margret. I will just say that things will go down differently than in the games, mainly because this is a realistic take on it. It will also have way more reaching consequences.

So we got some more backstory on Ariella. We also went over some magickal theory. What did we think about it, make sense? Don't like it?

Also, Ancano! The bastard makes an appearance, why is he in Markarth? Easy answer but it will come next chapter.

What do we think? Let's talk about it in the reviews!


	4. Act I: Chapter 4

Hello everyone,

I hope everyone is staying safe during these times. I keep wishing that this is as bad as I'll ever see the world but a part of me knows that it's not true. To everyone that has been directly affected by the virus and subsequent market collapse, you have my condolences.

On a happier note, I have had much more time to write. I've pretty much been forced into a full time writing position, while my company waits for things to get back to normal. I've learned a few things in this time. One, and the most important, is that I want to do this full time, and I can do this full time. Second is that a lot of people around me are learning what's important in life. So take this time to explore what you would love to do everyday, whatever it may be. I hope you can find it like I have!

I haven't worked very much on my fics on this sight tbh. I have mainly been writing about 2k words a day on my original work. Up to 10k words total. That is a huge head start on it that I did not expect! I'm really liking the way that it is writing out. But now I get to return to Courage and Voleur D'âme for the next two days!

So anyway, let's get on to the chapter! Follow me on instagram at wtmcdonaldauthor!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

"March, don't move! March damn it!"

I took an abnormal amount of pleasure seeing the men get serious at my tone. Two groups of twenty men stood in marching formation. They were currently marching twenty steps forward, and counting every step. Then right, then left, and finally backwards.

"Back!" I ordered and for the first time since the men started, they reached twenty steps backwards without tripping over each other.

At the call of 'twenty', I shouted. "Alright! We're done, you're finally competent enough to walk without tripping over each other and dying."

I continued to be amazed by the lack of training and discipline of the imperial legion. It was no wonder that Ulfric Stormcloak believed himself able to lead Skyrim better. He was probably right, if the state of Markarth was any indication.

"Quaestor!" I heard behind me.

I snapped to attention quickly as I turned to face the man. It was my current legate, who was in charge of me, and the men in front of me, for the afternoon shifts in the market and surrounding areas.

I expected the man to look livid, instead he was escorting someone my direction. He loved his power over me, and was looking to impress her.

Ariella walked behind him, her keen eyes roaming over the field and taking in the men still standing in marching formation. They were at attention now because of their legate.

"You have a visitor. Come see me after soldier." The legate commanded.

"Yes, sir." I told him before turning to my guest.

A part of me thought it inappropriate for me to be caught shirtless by Ariella. Then her eyes wandered and I had to beat back the grin that spilled on my face.

"Ariella." I greeted. "Welcome to the shit show that is the Imperial Legion." I spoke low so that my retreating legate wouldn't hear.

"Hadvar. They don't look so bad." Ariella said.

I snorted. "Yes, well this is after two weeks of practice. They only got it down, just now."

She smiled at me. It was by far her most attractive attribute, and that was saying something. "You know this is not your responsibility?"

She finished pointing to the men, who were still standing at attention, waiting for me to give them the word so they could break. I took pity on them.

"At ease, go get some water. Then pair up and spar." I turned away from them immediately and could hear their shuffling and sighs of relief.

"Someone has to do it." I commented back to Ariella. A part of my mind wondered if she had enchanted something on her to make me so ...well enchanted with her.

"Because the captain won't." Ariella said and her eyes finally met mine. I didn't let it show, but it brought me happiness.

_What the fuck is wrong with you Hadvar? I've never let women have this effect over me._ I thought to myself.

"Precisely." I agreed with a nod and waited for her to get to the point, the reason she was here. It must be important.

She took the hint. "I came to warn you." Ariella said. She turned back to the men who were done hydrating and were now sparring.

"Ok." I said, once again waiting on her to continue.

"You have eyes watching you, important eyes." Ariella said. "I still don't know if you've done it intentionally, or if it's all coincidence."

I frowned. _Is this about me taking over my superiors jobs of training the men? Or something else? _

"The Jarl, the Captain, and Calcelmo." I recited, telling her of those that I knew were watching. I was also fishing for more, seeing if she'd give it away.

Ariella chuckled, as if I had no idea how wrong I was. I deduced that was exactly what she was thinking.

"How do you know?" I asked, curious why she knew these things and I didn't.

"My new position has thrust me into the politics of Skyrim." Ariella answered while not really giving me anything to work on. "The corruption runs deep, Hadvar. Deeper than you can imagine."

My eyes, and determination, hardened. "Are you telling me to stop what I'm doing?" I asked, hoping that it was not the case.

"I'm telling you that if you continue, to be prepared for the repercussions it will bring." Ariella answered as her own voice got more steady. When she met my eyes this time, they were not nice. They were calculating, judging.

"Do you know that I could conquer this city with a thousand men trained like them?" I told her pointing at the men across from us. Their proficiency with the blade, and their fighting in general had improved by leaps and bounds. And they still weren't that good. I could probably cut through all of them alone.

Ariella didn't answer me, and her eyes didn't waver from mine. "One thousand. That's all it would take. That is fucking pathetic." I added on, disgust showing on my face.

"I joined the legion out of a sense of duty, to do my part. Instead I have found a deeper purpose." I finished.

"And what is that?" Ariella asked.

I always heard that a person's eyes were like the windows into their souls. The way she looked at me, the intensity, reinforced that theory.

"Skyrim and her people are weak and unprepared for what is coming. But give me a year or two, and she'll be ready for the storms on the horizon." I answered, finally giving her an answer.

Ariella's eyes brightened for a moment before darkening. "You may not have that long, Hadvar. Do it sooner."

_So she knows something is coming too? What does she think it is? How does she know it? _I wondered, at her reaction.

Something nagged at the back of my mind. "Why did you come to Skyrim, Ariella? A 'prodigious talent' like yourself, going to the College of Winterhold? Doesn't the rest of Tamriel think it a laughing stock, compared to the mages guild?"

Ariella couldn't hold back the surprise on her face. "You know more than you let on, Hadvar." She answered, once again giving me nothing. "Let's just say that it is about to become more important, with their more recent findings."

My heart dropped. _They've found Saarthal?_ I thought. _Is that why Ancano is traveling through Markart? To get to the College?_

_There was never any Ariella at the College. _I thought to myself, and immediately my mind came up with several theories that were thrown out the window just as fast.

"Be careful, Ariella. Skyrim is an old land, and holds many secrets." I said, trying not to reveal any of my knowledge. Hopefully my heritage would let me play it off.

Ariella's head cocked sideways and her eyes narrowed. _We both know more than we're letting on. _I realized.

"I came here to warn you, and instead you have swapped the roles." She commented, amusingly.

"It's only natural. I am very wise, after all." I joked. "In my humble opinion."

"Humble." Ariella repeated the word. "Of course." She laughed as she said it. It was music to my ears.

"I am leaving today, with the "ambassador"." Ariella said raising her hands and doing air quotes with them.

_I didn't know that people used hand quotes here. _I thought to myself as I laughed at her joke. Ancano thought himself more important that he actually was. He was a reject, sent to remind the arch-mage of the Thalmor's looming presence.

A part of me ached for the slightest moment, because of her impending departure. The past two weeks had made me forget of her first impression, apparently. I thought I would hold a grudge longer. Maybe it was the pretty face, or intelligence.

"Good, you've been distracting my studies everyday." I teased her.

Her eyebrows rose and I expected a witty comeback. Then her eyes lowered to my bare torso. "I'm distracting?" Ariella teased back.

This was how it had been ever since the meeting with her and Calcelmo, that day in the library. Her elitist attitude disappeared entirely, and she even talked to servants better. I thought it was because she felt bad for judging me based on my inheritance, and looks.

I sobered up from our teasing. "I'll have to come visit you." I told her, mainly to ease my own disappointment.

"You'll never get the chance." Ariella shot down. "You'll be too busy cleaning this mess."

"Then you'll have to visit me." I countered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

She laughed again. "I'll be too busy cleaning that mess." Ariella countered.

I frowned. "So this is it? After this, our meetings will be circumstantial?" I asked.

"I wouldn't say that. I have a feeling we will see each other again, soon." Ariella said while reaching her hand to me, palm up waiting on something.

I reached my hand out for a handshake. "No, you brute. Your sword, give it here." Ariella corrected me.

I frowned and did as she asked, handing it to her hilt first. I felt her summon her magick and feed it into the blade. The same runes as before appeared along the length of the blade. Without warning, her magick flexed again and _twisted_ before enveloping the sword. The whole process took about twenty seconds.

Then she twirled the blade with surprising efficiency, before offering back to me. I grabbed it and fed it my own magick before inspecting it.

The whole design of the runes had changed. Along the middle ran at least three times the amount of runes. And she added more along the edges. It was obviously a masterful display of enchanting.

"There, now you might have one of the top ten most valuable steel swords on the continent." Ariella bragged and I thought she would flip her hair for a moment.

Steam rose from the blade, and the air distorted around it, as the enchantments kicked in with my magick.

"This is too great of a gift, Ariella." I said.

"Stay alive, Hadvar. You'll need all the help you can get." Ariella said before turning around.

"Till we meet again."

* * *

I found my legate in the mess hall, after asking around for a moment trying to locate him. I walked up to him, without getting a plate of my own even though my stomach growled at me.

"Sir." I said, getting his attention.

He looked up, and his eyes lit up in recognition. He took one last bite before standing up and walking off.

"Follow me."

I obeyed and walked behind him. He led me through the halls of the barracks for a moment and didn't speak until no one was around us.

"You are a good soldier Quaestor, but you are drawing a lot of attention to yourself." The legate, whose name I still didn't know, said.

"I'm not trying to sir, just doing my duty." I retorted quickly.

"That is half the problem around here. I'm not telling you to stop, just to be careful. Captain's asked to speak to you." The legate said.

That's when I began to recognize where he was taking me. I mentally prepared myself for the coming confrontation. We reached the hall that would lead me to the captain's office and the legate stopped suddenly.

He leaned into my ear. "You're not the only one who wants things to change around here. Tonight, behind the shrine of Talos."

And then the legate was gone, almost running down the halls. I shook my head and focused on the task at hand.

I approached the door I knew was the captain's office and knocked. I waited for a moment.

"Come in." I heard the captain's voice say from inside.

I obeyed, and entered the room. The captain was alone, once again. He kept the same tactic as last time, and kept writing on the piece of paper before lifting his head to address me.

"You've been busy." The captain said. He leaned back in his chair staring at me intently.

A part of me was surprised at the declaration. The past week, since the incident with Margret, had been fairly quiet in town. Sure, him and his men had been stopping more and more thefts and muggings in town, but nothing besides that.

"I'm not sure what you mean, Captain." I told him truthfully.

"You think your actions in the training yard every morning wouldn't draw notice?" The captain said.

"Just doing my duty." I answered.

"Of course." The way the captain said those words made his blood boil. He was so condescending. It made me remember the young dark elf sitting on his lap that day in the Silver-Blood Inn. "Our Jarl is happy with our latest success in his city, and has finally awarded me with some respect."

I tried not to let the anger that increased show. _He's getting credit for my hard work. _I realized.

"Oh don't look so angry at it. It's the nature of these things, you know. I get the credit for everything, good and bad. It's not all it's made out to be." The captain said, seeing my look of rage.

"Plus I did make the decision to put you and your men in the marketplace, where you would be most effective." The piece of shit continued.

_Yes, the only relatively intelligent thing you've done. _I thought to myself.

"Don't let it be said that I won't honor hard work, soldier. As of this moment, you are Praefect, for your actions in getting the men where we need them." The captain said.

_At least I'm getting something. _I thought a little relieved. The captain wasn't a complete dick head at least. _Even if he'll get even more credit, now that I have more power and control. _

It wasn't that much of a promotion truly. It just meant that I was the official 'head' guard while on patrols. I was already the unofficial 'head' guard, because of the respect the men had for me. Maybe this would cause even more men to show up in the mornings. Close to fifty men wasn't that great when the city boasted a little over a thousand guards. Although most of those patrolled the nobles in the mountain.

"Thank you sir." I told the man, not completely lying.

"Two promotions in two weeks is an accomplishment you should be proud of. Keep it up and you can make Legate in short time." The captain said.

_Legate isn't good enough. That will be my seat soon. _My ambition reared its head in my mind.

"That's all, soldier."

I walked out, proud of the promotion, and a little pissed off too.

* * *

I grew up a firm believer that Talos had indeed achieved divinity as one of the Aedra. Nords embraced him as their chief god, over Akatosh.

Now, I wasn't sure. I knew that, according to the games, the gods existed. It was the reason I stayed completely out of the conjuration section in the library. The name itself was misleading.

Conjuration didn't conjure anything. It summoned things from the other dimensions. Dimensions that the Daedra ruled over. I refused to draw the gaze of spirits so powerful they were considered gods. No, I would stick to other ways to become powerful. Similar to how Talos did during his campaign of uniting the continent under one banner.

Although where his focus was the Thu'um, mine would be magic. His ambitions spanned the continent. Mine were focused on my homeland, my people. Skyrim was my only focus right now. If that changed in the future then I would cross that bridge when I reached it.

All of these thoughts ran through my head as I looked up at the Talos shrine in Markarth. It was a massive thing, nearly identical to the one in Whiterun. It was obviously the same sculptor.

There was nobody around, I was the only one here. Very few people openly worshipped him anymore because of the Thalmor's looming presence. That didn't stop brave nords from visiting the shrine daily, however.

The sun had set some time ago and I was getting tired of waiting, it had cut into my study time. That didn't stop me from practicing completely, if the rocks floating around my hand was any indication. Telekinesis kept four rotating around my hand, in a particular pattern. It was a fantastic control exercise. One of the best in fact.

When I wasn't practicing meditation, I had floating rocks around my person. I still hadn't found an excuse to start lifting really heavy things with my magic.

_It's too bad that weight is directly proportional to the amount of magicka used. _I thought, remembering the warnings the alteration book had given.

Telekinesis was apparently something that applied to more areas of magic than just alteration. It makes sense, considering you needed to propel your elemental attacks towards your enemy. It also worked into the basics of wards, which was apparently a part of alteration, and not restoration as it had been in the games.

This was another thing that made sense to me, when I thought about it. Restoration is purely based on healing. Alteration was geared towards defense, considering all of the armor spells that made up the genre of magick. That meant that wards belonged to this school of magick also.

Illusion was kind of a catch all for the sneakier arts. Such as emotion manipulation, like calm. Or muffle, which was sound based magick. I quickly learned that the game was not a reliable source of information for magick.

When I started looking at magic from a different perspective, I realized how powerful one's defense could become, when combining the concepts of say dragonflesh to a ward? It would protect you from all forms of damage, physical and magickal. This shouldn't have been an epiphany, unless your thinking was defined by a video game.

Now that the world was real, the magick seemed more and more broken. Talos only knows how bad the Thu'um really is. I wasn't ready for any bombs on that one yet.

_Pretty sure the time limit on a Thu'um isn't a thing. Why would it be? _I considered, horrified by the idea.

Ulfric Stormcloak is going to be a monster, a monster I am on the direct opposite side of. Thank Talos he wasn't the Dragonborn, that would be a nightmare.

I was interrupted by footsteps approaching and my hand dropped to my sword. My concentration on the telekinesis left and the rocks fell to the ground at my feet.

My legate's form was easy to distinguish, he was accompanied by a familiar looking nord. I racked my brain trying to remember where I had seen him before. His warpaint looked familiar.

"Congratulations on your promotion." The legate said, pointing to my new stripes on my uniform.

"Who's your friend?" I asked my superior officer, getting to the point. Neither was on duty, and he called me here.

In the two weeks that I had been in the world. I learned that while the Imperial legion was modeled after the Roman legion, no one took it nearly as seriously as the Romans had in my previous life. It was the reason people would obey me, even though they outranked me. Nordic culture mixed with it also, throwing it into some odd thing where people respected you based on a number of things. The most important being merit, what a fucking weird concept.

_If only I could figure out the reason the Captain got his position, I might be able to take it quicker. _

"This is Eltrys, a friend of mine. He works at the smelter." The legate said and I remembered where I had met the man. He was the same man I mistook for a blacksmith, on my 'first' day in this world. _He called me a milk-drinker._

"And my name is Thros." My legate, now Thros, said.

"Hadvar." I responded nodding to both of them. "Why have you called me here?"

Eltrys stepped up this time. "You're the one who saved Margret from Weylin. And the one who stopped those cultists in the hall of the dead?"

I nodded. "Yes, right place, right time."

"Or fate." Eltrys corrected.

I wanted to deny him, but even I knew it was a big coincidence. "Talos has blessed you." Thros said. "I've seen the way you lead the men. It won't be long until you make legate."

That was the second time the same day that the title had been dangled in front of me. _Why?_

"That doesn't tell me why I'm here." I persisted.

"Yes, yes. We need you to investigate something for us." Thros said. "Weylin was killed in his cell the other night, before giving any information up."

I knew the information of course. I was keeping up with the progress of the investigation. It had led to me visiting Margret for the second time, and had nothing to do with the reward I didn't mind collecting. I had a hard time staying away from the inn nowadays.

"Yes, I know. You need me to investigate where he lived?" I asked, remembering the quest line from the games. Go to the Warren's, find his notebook that gives zero information. Upon leaving, I'd have to fight a mercenary sent to kill me, by Nepos the Nose.

"Precisely, I told you he was the one." Thros said turning to Eltrys.

I, of course, had no intention of actually doing it. I knew the answers that would be found there.

"I'll meet with you tomorrow. Same time and place." I told both of them while walking away. I was hoping that the forsworn conspiracy didn't exist in this Markarth. I was wrong, and I need to plan.

There was a way that I could use this to my advantage, I just had to find it.

* * *

A/N: Shorter chapter this week, mainly because any of the next scenes would be way too long to include in this chapter.

Ariella is moving on, with Ancano to the College of Winterhold. And they have found Saarthal and the Eye of Magnus. I wonder what this means for the story, brownie points for whoever figures it out. Hint: It's a fucking massive reveal.

The forsworn conspiracy has been revealed to be a serious thing, and Hadvar refuses to have it go like the games. Now he just has to change it to suit his needs.

How could he do that? I already know, of course. But I'm curious what you all think could happen.

Let's talk in the reviews!


	5. Act I: Chapter 5

Hello everyone,

So I want to admit something to everyone, I think I haven't been doing that great on this story the past couple of chapters. For that, I am sorry. It's just been missing ...direction I think. I know the direction I am taking it, but you guys don't right now and that's what matters. He's just hanging out in Markarth and being a guard, progressing through the legion and I don't like it.

Obviously that is not going to be the whole story, but I need to speed the events up just a tad, so that everyone can know where we're going and we're all on the same page. With that being said, this chapter is me trying to remedy it. Enjoy.

Authors note at the bottom.

Follow me on instagram at wtmcdonaldauthor

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

I cursed myself as my feet led me down the alleyways towards the Warrens, the slum of Markarth.

I knew it was foolish to actually investigate the man's room, as my legate and Eltrys asked, but the threat of a mercenary roaming around the streets, waiting for someone to intimidate didn't sit well with me.

_What if a child poked his nose where it didn't belong? _I asked myself.

I had a black cloak thrown around my form, with the hood up. It covered up the imperial garb I normally wore. I wasn't here on duty, but I would use my position if it was needed.

It didn't take me long to reach the Warrens. It was just as bad as I expected. There were no guards to be found, we had long since abandoned this part of the city. I got sick to my stomach. People laid on the streets, on blankets. Women enticed me to a fun night, and children ran around unattended.

_Damn you. _I thought, but couldn't find anyone to blame. _Maybe I should blame myself, since it is my duty. _

I made a note to have a talk with the legate who was in charge of this sector of the city. It would be a long, detailed discussion. My blood boiled.

I grabbed a hobbling old man by the elbow, reached down and picked up the blanket he was trying to reach and threw it around his shoulders. The man flinched, and tried to back away.

"Easy now." I told him gently. The man didn't dare look me in the eyes. "Do you know of a man named Weylin?" I asked.

I already knew everything I needed to know, but I had to draw the mercenary out of his hiding place. The man didn't answer like I expected, so I let him go and turned to the rest of the people in the little clearing I was in.

"Anyone know of a man named Weylin? Two septims for information." I yelled out to whoever could hear me.

I expected to be mobbed by people, trying to get the money to feed their families. Instead, all I got were looks of fright before everyone backed away from me and then turned their heads. I filed the information away in my mind.

_Someone rules over this part of the city. _I realized, watching the people. _And they rule with an iron fist. I think I know who it is. _

If it was who I believed it to be, then I had much less time with the forsworn conspiracy than I initially believed.

_In fact, I bet the King in Rags is no longer imprisoned. _I thought.

I mentally prepared myself for a fight as I walked away from the area that I was in. I roamed the Warrens aimlessly for a good hour. I intentionally walked along abandoned streets, and alleyways waiting for my attackers. I flinched at nearly every sound, and my magic was primed and ready to go at a moment's notice.

It finally happened. I turned down an alleyway that I had already traversed a couple of times, and at the end of it stood a figure, in a similar cloak to my own.

I almost relaxed, until I felt the magick in the shadow beside me.

Suddenly there was a dagger heading towards my ribs from my left side. Instinct took over, and I telekinetically 'pushed' the thrusting arm to the side, where it would miss me.

My arm slipped into their guard, and soon I had a very deep choke hold on my attacker with my left arm around their throat, and my right under their right arm locking the choke in place.

I whipped them around, to put my assassins front to his companion and hide behind him. It was the right move, as an arrow impacted their torso.

Things happened quickly then. Three more people appeared in the alleyway and I knew they weren't friendly. The body in front of me wheezed because of the arrow in their right lung. It didn't stop them from grabbing a second dagger with their left arm and blindly stabbing.

It happened so fast, and I was distracted with the newcomers to be able to react in time. The dagger sunk into my right side.

I groaned in pain and their arm jerked it out, causing blood to spurt from my side. At this point, there was no thinking involved and I twisted.

'Crunch.'

The sickening sound echoed through the alleyway and my attacker's face caught my eyes as her body fell to the ground, dead immediately with a broken neck.

A burn spread from the wound on my right side and I realized why quickly. _Poison. _

"What the fuck?!"

"No!"

The cries from the woman's companions told me that she was most likely the leader, which bode well for me. If they were all of the same skill level, then I would be in trouble.

_I need time. _I thought as the poison spread throughout my body. .

I summoned my magic and sent out an illusion spell I learned the day before. Fear was unlike calm. There were two ways to do it, the first was to project your own fear. The second was to project your own confidence with a twist, as if it was directed at someone. The best I could compare it to would be killing intent from Naruto.

I chose the second option. _Fear has no place in my mind. _

The women's companions took a step back, and I immediately switched my magic to healing magic and focused on what I wanted it to do.

I _grabbed_ the burn in my body, and willed it back to the wound in my side. I was surrounded by a yellow glow that lit up the alleyway. The other three attackers were all men, and they looked at me like I was Death coming to judge them of their sins.

Blood stopped spurting onto the ground, and redirected itself to do my bidding. It was a slow process, and I decided I had to distract them longer.

I drew my sword with a flourish. "You can all leave here alive if you answer a few questions." I said dropping into a stance.

I switched my healing magic to send out another burst of fear to them and then switched back to healing magic. All of the poison reached the wound, and I pushed it out. I felt the coagulated blood and poison dribble out onto my skin.

A quick check let me know that I was almost out of magicka. All my training had increased my reserves by leaps and bounds, but switching between the two schools was taxing. Plus it was hard to focus on control in the situation.

"He's poisoned, you idiots. And it's three on one. We can take him." The smartest of the bunch said.

I wanted to send another burst of fear, but instead sealed the wound on my side. It was a good thing too, because my magicka ran out without warning. The wound was only scabbed over, and not healed completely. Not to mention the damage the poison caused inside, combined with the blood loss.

I focused on my 'meditation', and tried breathing in magicka from the air around me. A small trickle filled my system just as the fear wore off on my opponents.

They didn't waste any more time, and one of them drew back on the bow in their hands. I breathed in another small amount of magicka just as he loosed it and his companions charged.

I extended the small amount of magicka in the form of telekinesis and slightly nudged the arrow in the air, sending it off target and to the right. It passed right by his companion's ear and I cursed my small reserves.

_Could've taken one out with his own arrow. _I thought.

Then the first man was on me. He swung his sword hard down, intending to cut me from left shoulder to right hip. His companion was approaching from my left, and was also winding up his own swing to take me down when I blocked or parried the first man's swing.

I did the only thing I could and stepped to the right of the first man's swing. My left forearm whipped up and slapped the first blade with the metal gauntlets on it.

I stepped past him to the second man, and my sword rose to parry his swing. The first man was almost recovered from his opening move.

_I need space. _I thought.

My right foot lashed out and kicked the second man in the chest, sending him tumbling to the ground.

I turned back to the first man, calmly parried his thrust that would have pierced my chest. I stepped forward and slashed. I turned around to an arrow piercing my left shoulder.

The man and I both grunted in pain, although it was followed by his body giving out on him as blood poured out of his body into the dirt at our feet.

I had no moment of reprieve as the man that I kicked to the ground was on his feet again. Anger overtook me for a moment and I went on offense.

I swung a direction that I knew would make him move into his friends line of sight, to save me from the next arrow. He did as I thought and sent another attack. It was laughably easy to parry it and step in his guard to deliver a punch to his ribs.

The punch caused them to crack, and he backed up towards his companion like I expected. We were within fifteen feet of the archer then, and he had his bow trained on our forms, waiting for the opportunity.

I stayed close to the man with the sword and my left hand reached out and grabbed his sword arm. Then I decided he didn't need that appendage anymore, and I cut it off at the elbow.

My foot impacted the man's chest again, just as I reached out to my magick again. It had recovered just enough for my next move.

As the armless swordsman fell, I pushed the arms of the man with the bow off to the side, and when he loosed the arrow, it was way off once again.

Then I was in his guard. His hands dropped the bow, once he realized what happened, and moved to unsheathe the sword on his waist. I didn't let him, and with a quick cut, his head rolled on the floor of the alleyway.

The rage in my system disappeared, replaced by pain in my gut and shoulder. Blood ran down both wounds, as I had opened the one on my side back up with more fighting.

I grit my teeth and turned around to the man on the ground, I expected him to be dead from the blood loss, but instead, the wound on his arm was cauterized and he passed out from the pain.

I looked back at the headless figure at my feet, and saw that it's cut was also cauterized, and my sword's runes were glowing.

Then my eyes sought out the first man I cut down after the assassin, and saw blood pooling around him.

_So the sword's enchantments have to be activated by the user? It doesn't hold a certain amount in it like the games? Do soul gems even exist?_ I pondered for a moment. _I was out of magicka when the first man attacked, and then I used a small amount at the end of the fight with the other two. _

Pain broke me out of my thoughts, and I groaned as I recognized the similarities from my first day in this universe.

"I'm tired of being ambushed."

* * *

"Hold your wrist out."

I can confidently say one thing. I was not expecting to be put in cuffs once guards stumbled on the scene.

I looked at the guard as if he was the dumbest thing on Tamriel, but I did not obey him. I shed the cloak obscuring my form instead. Once my rank, now displayed on my shoulder, hit the air the guard dropped his hand and belted the cuffs instead.

"Sorry, sir." The guard said, and I couldn't tell if I knew the man because of the helmet on his head.

"It's alright, soldier. These men ambushed me and I defended myself." I told him, not willing to go in too much detail. "You can see the result of the fight."

"Yes, sir." The guard said and turned to his companion. "Go get someone to clean this mess up." He told the other man. The other guard moved to obey him quickly.

"I was investigating something for my legate." I started. "Did you hear about the attack in the market square not too long ago?"

"Yes, sir. He died in the cells right?" The guard asked.

"Aye, and if I let this one..." I said kicking the body at my feet. "...get imprisoned. I fear the result would be the same."

I gave him a look, one that both of us knew meant that I wanted some alone time with the man. The guard didn't acknowledge what I said at all, and instead he turned around and pretended like I wasn't there.

I smiled and kneeled down. The man without his sword arm was still passed out and I pondered on how to wake him up.

I decided that smacking the cauterized wound was the best course of action. The man shot up like a rocket, with a scream and wide eyes.

A quick burst of 'calm' spread out from my half-way recovered magick, and the man stopped his panicking for a second.

"Who sent you?!" I asked sharply, sending a 'fear' into the man.

"I don't know!"

My fist impacted his nose, and it crumpled under my punch. I sent another 'fear' at him, and grabbed him by his collar.

"Who!?"

Blood ran down his face from his now-crooked nose. "I don't know. Amy only mentioned 'the nose'."

I paused, recognizing the name. Nepos the Nose was a man deeply embedded in the noble society of Markarth. He just so happens to be Forsworn also.

"Oh, thanks!"

* * *

I rolled my shoulder and prodded at my left side. I smiled in happiness at the injuries being completely healed, although I had new scars already.

_Restoration is broken. _I thought before I caught myself. _Really I think magic is broken. _

I wanted to do nothing more than go to the barracks and pass out, but I needed to talk to the Legate and Eltrys. I already had blood on my hands because of them, and would see this whole ordeal through to the end.

I still had no idea what to do about Madanach or the forsworn in the mines of the city. Would they attack soon?

I focused on the task at hand as I caught sight of the shrine of Talos. Rumor has it that it's supposed to be taken down and destroyed. But the city always falls just short in its budget every year. I suspect it was the Jarl giving the legion and the Aldmeri Dominion the middle finger.

I smiled as I turned a corner to go towards the same spot from previously. My smile dropped quickly.

"No, please! I have a fami.." A gurgle followed. The sound one makes when they find their throat opened up.

_Fuck. _I thought as I drew my weapon and slowly rounded the corner.

I heard a scuffle then and I threw caution to the wind. When I finally saw what was going on, my legate was fighting off two attackers.

Three people laid on the ground dead, or bleeding out. I rushed forward and wasted no time in cutting down a female attacker with a dagger in her hand. My sword moved through her body like a hot knife in butter, an effect of the enchantment. She died before she hit the ground.

My legate took the distraction I provided and opened the other attackers stomach open, spilling guts on the ground. He wasted no time in piercing the brain afterwards, making sure of the kill. It was an extreme showcase of brutality.

I subconsciously analyzed his movements, and was surprised to find someone who knew his way around a sword.

"You alright?" I asked, as he cleaned his blade off.

"Yeah. Thanks, soldier." The legate said.

"They came for me earlier, too." I told him quickly, catching him up on the events of the night. "Nepos sent them."

My eyes found Eltrys' form on the ground, his throat opened up and spilling blood still.

"Nepos?" The legate asked. "How do you know?"

"Interrogated one, they mentioned 'The Nose'. Only one person with that moniker in the city." I told him.

The legate nodded to me but didn't say anything. He was still recovering from the fight, obviously. Then I noticed the blood running down his leg.

He stumbled, and I moved to catch him. "Where is it?" I asked quickly.

I summoned my magick, and hoped I had enough left in the tank when he responded. "Inner thigh, nothing too major."

_There is an artery there, you idiot. _I thought. I set him down on the ground and put my hands around his leg. He didn't react, because he had passed out.

"Don't move." I told him as if he could hear me and sent my magic into his body. I quickly got a read of the injury and found that his artery was indeed nicked. I sealed it quickly, pouring magick into it. I didn't have enough to do much more, nor did I have the opportunity.

"Don't move!"

I felt the unmistakable tip of a sword being pressed against my back. I did as the person said, and froze every muscle.

"This man could d..."

"Shut the fuck up! Hands behind your head, slowly."

Once again, I obeyed and slowly rose my hands to my head. Only because I couldn't do anything more for the legate, nor was I willing to act against the guard behind me.

Cuffs graced my wrists, and I was shoved to the ground. I understood what the scene must look like, and when they find out I was the same person that was responsible for another blood bath on the opposite side of the city, well it wasn't going to be pretty.

I couldn't even argue because of the sword pressed against my back. My thoughts summed the situation up exactly.

_Well, fuck._

* * *

"Well you're in quite the predicament."

I looked up, from my laying position on the cot in the cell the legion had so graciously gifted me. Lo and behold, the Captain of the guard stood in front of me with a grin on his face. My calm confident feeling was replaced with hate for the man.

I jumped out of bed and snapped to attention. "Sir." I said in greeting regardless of my feelings toward him.

"You are a prisoner, not a Praefect." The Captain said in response.

"Once he wakes up, he'll confirm my story sir." I responded, completely confident.

The grin on his face widened and my gut twisted, as if he knew something I didn't. "Is that so?" The captain asked.

_That doesn't bode well._

"Because to me, and everyone else important, it looks like you went on a bloody rampage all last night. We even found this note in your pocket." The Captain said smugly and held up a piece of paper between two fingers.

I looked at it and everything started clicking. I held on to hope, because once the legate wakes up, he'll confirm my story. I just had to wait until then. Dread pooled in my gut. Then I noticed a suspicious lack of other guards in the barracks prison. My gut feeling intensified.

"'They know too much. You know what to do' - N." The Captain read aloud. "That's pretty incriminating."

"Forged, and then planted on me by someone in this N's pocket. Someone who arrested me." I said, confident that he would believe me.

That's when I realized that I was talking to the wrong person about all this. I assumed that the Captain would be fair and just about the whole situation. The memory of the Captain sitting in the Silver-Blood Inn flashed through my mind, and my gut feeling disappeared as I figured the whole situation out.

_This motherfucker._ I thought.

The Captain just stared at me, his smile gone. "You made powerful enemies, Hadvar. All because of a whore Tullius sent."

General Tullius was the head of the Legion in Skyrim. The most powerful man besides the High King. And the Captain said his name with such contempt.

"Margret?" I asked, confused. _Was this a part of the games?_

"If that is her real name. Sent by Tullius to investigate me and the Silver-Bloods." He revealed. "Look at your face, you didn't even know."

His laugh echoed through the prison, and my stomach dropped. _He would only tell me this if he was sure I wouldn't be able to talk. I can't believe I forgot about her being a spy._

"You're in the Silver-Bloods pocket." I deduced finally. Originally I just assumed they had a good relationship because of his title but that was wrong. The Captain was the source of incompetency in the legion.

"And they don't like people getting in their business." I continued. "I stopped Margret's assasination, and then I shacked up with her."

"And then you met with that idiot of a legate and the nord." The captain sneered at me. "You forced their hand, and mine with it. My arrangement does make me a very rich man, and I can't jeopardize that."

The gut feeling I had earlier was instantly replaced with white hot rage. It flooded through my body, and I wanted nothing more than to kill the man in front of me. But I didn't, because there is still a chance that the legate will survive and be able to get me out of here without me becoming a criminal in all of Skyrim.

_What if he doesn't wake up? _I thought to myself. Best case scenario is I escape and live my life as a bandit or something just as dishonorable.

The Captain pocketed the note in his hand and his smile returned quickly. "You're to be sent to the mines two days from now."

_The mines, where Madanach rules the forsworn from. _I thought. _I'd be dead immediately. _

"Oh and I forgot to mention…"

Dread pooled in my stomach as my terrible gut feeling returned.

"The legate is dead."

* * *

A/N: Ok there you go, plot is sped up for a little bit.

What do we think about it? Do we like the fight scenes? Do we like the betrayal of Hadvar? What about the reveal at the end? What should he do now that his only hope is gone.

Let's talk in the reviews!


	6. Act I: Chapter 6

Hello everyone,

We are back with another chapter. I feel better about the story and where it's going now. I have figured out that my plans were just taking too long to come to fruition, so this change in pace is a good thing.

I'll be honest with everyone. I posted a chapter of a Pokemon story that had been nagging at me for a while. I expected it to go away after that. I was wrong. I was so wrong. I don't know why but it's slowly rooted in my mind and won't leave. Pretty much all of my free time right now is spent researching for that story.

But we get to return to this one for a day! And for that, I am excited. So without further ado, let's get on with it!

Authors note at the bottom.

Follow me on instagram at wtmcdonaldauthor

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

"Are you just going to lay there?"

I recognized the condescending voice immediately. _Calcelmo. _

"Hello, Calcelmo." I replied.

I normally didn't face the people or guards that visited me everyday. But this was a rare occasion, so I opened my eyes and stood up off of the cot. My meditation pulsed through the room and into the hallway.

"Your reserves have grown." Calcelmo said as he sensed my casual use of magic.

"Five days, with nothing to do but practice." I told him with a smile that didn't meet my eyes.

He stood there, staring at me for a moment. "Then why haven't you escaped?" Calcelmo asked with a raised eyebrow. "It would be easy for us."

_Us as in magicians. _I corrected him in my mind. "And then what? Live my life as a bandit always on the run?"

Calcelmo didn't miss a beat. "There are those who would be sympathetic to you, in the north."

"The Stormcloaks."I answered, knowing where he was going with the conversation.

"There are reports of a change in Ulfric Stormcloak. Skyrim won't be peaceful for long." Calcelmo's words cut in deeper than they should have.

_Was there a change in Ulfric in the games? Or did he always have delusions of High King? _I thought as I pondered the words.

"I refuse to give my life to a cause I don't believe in." I asserted my position on the subject.

"Is this a cause you believe in?" Calcelmo countered quickly while pointing to the cell around me. "If not, you better do something quickly because they will come for your life soon."

"What do you want me to do?" I asked him, getting angry. "Cut my way out of here? Cut through the same men I helped train. The same men that looked to me as a leader?"

"The same men who are guarding your cell." Calcelmo countered.

I hated how his words made so much sense. My eyes looked around and found the form of Bjorn, walking around the cells, checking the prisoners. Finn normally brought me my food. Other familiar faces appeared every now and then around the prison. The captain had obviously thought it would be a fun form of torture for the men that I trained to guard my cell and work in the prison.

_He obviously lied about being sent to the mines two days ago. It's been five and nothing's happened. _

"What will you do? Accept your fate?" Calcelmo asked when I didn't respond.

"No." I answered. I knew I probably shouldn't have told him anything, but I already had a plan laid out for myself. Several, actually. Five days was a long time to just lay there.

Calcelmo smiled at me, and then he just disappeared as if he was never there.

_Astral Projection. _I realized just as he left me with a parting word.

"Good."

* * *

"Bjorn."

The man stiffened, before slowly turning to my cell.

"Traitor." Bjorn hissed out. The words meant nothing to me.

"You think I would just go on a killing spree? I was framed." I told him quickly before he could interrupt.

"Enough. I won't hear your lies, traitor." Bjorn said, before he walked off.

_Ok, so turning Bjorn and the men to my side doesn't seem possible. So plan b._

* * *

Snores sounded out in the prison, coming from all around me. I decided that it had been long enough, and it was time to move. My legs kicked off of the cot and landed on the ground of my cell.

I summoned my magic and reached out to the lock of my cell. I had figured out how to pick it with telekinesis the first day I had been there, but I had been unwilling to act upon the information. At least, until Calcelmo gave me the final push.

There was a faint 'click' and the door creaked slightly as I opened it and stepped out into the prison. There were no guards coming my way, and wouldn't for a while, considering he was currently asleep via illusion magic.

_I love illusion magic. _I thought as I passed his sleeping form. He was curled up in a ball in a chair, showing that he liked to cuddle with stuff.

I walked right past him and opened a door that would lead to where they kept my armor and sword. I didn't encounter any else, knowing that they were making rounds elsewhere in the city. The prison was a skeleton crew at this hour. It was dumb really, it made escaping so much easier.

Another three doors and I was in the right place. I half expected my sword to be on someone else's waist, but apparently no one could see the value in the sword.

_Idiots. _I thought as I got dressed in my full gear and belted the sword.

I walked out of the prison without encountering anyone. There wasn't even anyone guarding the front door, I just walked straight out into the night.

* * *

My path brought me to a set of stairs designed in the old nordic architectural style. At the top were a set of pillars that lead down to a huge opening in the side of the mountain. On one of the pillars, the name of the place I was approaching was written.

'Cidhna Mine.'

I climbed the steps toward my destination. It was odd heading to a place considered to be the real prison of Markarth. The place had another function besides just being a prison and a mine. It was the base of operations for the King of the Forsworn. The King in Rags, Madanach.

I reached the top and immediately saw two hired mercenaries standing at the entrance.

_The fucking mine is better protected than the real prison. _I observed incredulously.

The mercenaries had already seen me. One drew his sword, the other had a mace in his hands. I wondered how hard it must be to wield the heavy thing one-handed, before focusing on the task at hand.

"That's far enough, friend." The mercenary called out to me. "State your business. It better be good for you to come this late."

I ignored him and decided to start my own line of dialogue. "Do you work for Thonar? Or Madanach?" I asked simply.

The carefree look on their faces dropped and became very very serious. They didn't even bother answering, instead they went into kill mode and started coming towards me.

_I guess that means that Madanach has infiltrated his own guards. _I deduced. _Has he escaped already? Is my plan already thwarted? _

I drew the sword on my waist and primed my magic. The two men looked like they had been fighting together for a long time. It's too bad they would be dead in a few seconds.

I raised my left hand and molded my magic in the newest spell in my arsenal. First I summoned a small flame before _folding_ my magic top of itself and drawing in more heat. A small ball of white fire formed then. Their eyes widened just as I let the ball of fire loose. It shot through the air and impacted the mercenary with the sword center mass.

The fire exploded outwards upon impact, and caught the man on fire.

His friend spared a small glance at him and then decided that he needed to kill me to stop the fire. It was a good deduction, and would have worked had I been an ordinary mage.

He got close and swung his mace overhead. It was laughably easy to send it off course with telekinesis and run him through with my sword. His heart was cut and cauterised in the same moment because of the enchantments on the sword. When he fell to the ground, he was dead.

The swordsman's screams rang my ears as he finally felt the fire. I walked over to him and pierced his brain for a mercy kill. Burning to death was a hard way to die. I walked past the two corpses to the entrance to the mine. I buried the guilt in my mind for the brutal murders I had just committed.

The huge opening in the middle of the mountain led into a beautifully carved cavern. It would have extended all the way to the actual mines had there not been a wood and metal wall that sealed it off, except for a door. I picked the lock on the door with a small burst of magic and pushed it open without hesitation.

I thanked whoever was responsible for having lit torches on the walls for light. I didn't want to have to walk around with a magelight in front of me and give away my position. Not to mention my need to conserve my magicka.

The door closed behind my and I immediately noticed the lack of care on this side of the wall. The floors were the only relatively even surface in the mine. The walls barely looked like they were carved at all because of the jaggedness of the rock.

I moved further down into the mine, taking care not to make too much noise. There was no telling how many Forsworn were in the cave.

I didn't encounter any for a while. I must have made it about a quarter of a mile into the mine when I realized it would be much bigger than I had originally thought. It made sense considering Markarth was also so much bigger than in the games. This was the premier silver mine for all of Skyrim, they must have mined deep.

The first person I encountered was asleep in a tent on a raised platform in the mine. It was surprisingly smooth. I didn't see them, but I heard their snoring.

I continued, and found more little carved out sections in the stone that weren't occupied. It made me feel better and worse at the same time. Better because I expected to run into a lot of people in the mines, worse because they could all still be here just huddled together in one spot, and that would be bad.

I was here for the head of Madanach, nothing else. I suspected that more heads would roll before it was all said and done though.

At one point, the mine had many shafts that I could travel down. I always took the more worn path.

I wasn't sure how long I walked through the mine, but it had to be miles long. _Just how far into the mountain does it go? _

Then I heard the voices. I pressed on towards them slowly and in the shadows.

"Thonar doesn't want peace Madanach. He wants war."

"There is no sense in that. No, he wants me here in the mines so that he can control us. I have spread misinformation to his spies. He does not know."

It was obviously Madanach who had answered the man. His voice was deep, rumbling like the mountain he lived under. It bounced off of the walls and carried far without him raising his voice at all.

"He does, my King. He knows!"

"If he does, it will be too late. By morning, we will all have escaped to Druadach."

"As you will it."

I peaked my head around the corner to see two white-headed Forsworn. One was walking away from another through a small tunnel that looked like it had just been carved.

_They really have escaped the mine. _I thought as I watched them.

That means that had I been any later I would have missed almost everyone but the man at the beginning of the mine. This was why it was so easy to get all the way down without actually having to fight my way down.

Had I been any earlier, I really would have had to fight a lot of people if the city of stone huts that were laid out in front of me was any indication. It went a ridiculously far distance in the cavern that I was in.

The corner that I had peaked around expanded into what I could only describe as a small town. The cavern reached at least thirty feet into the air, with pillars of gold framing it.

_This is a part of the old Dwemer city. _I realized as I noticed the gold architecture.

"You should already be gone, my King."

"I will be the last to leave this mine, as I am the reason our people were here." Madanach replied. He gained a small amount of respect from me after he said that.

_He seems like as good of a king the Forsworn can have. _I told myself as I saw the duo disappear into the small, new tunnel.

I stuck to the shadows like before, and made sure not to tip them off with the sound of my footfalls or armor clinking.

They turned another corner and I snuck around it also. That was when I saw the procession in front of me. I was right when I thought an entire city lived in the mines. It turns out that the new tunnel that was just carved actually only led to another huge cavern that would otherwise be inaccessible from the previous. Dwemer ruins always wound through mountains afterall.

That was when I saw the true exit. About two hundred people milled about below us, putting things into carts attached to horses and taking it out of an exit tunnel. I deduced that it would lead to the Druadach place mentioned earlier.

_They're still moving out. _I realized as I looked below.

The other man had already pulled ahead of Madanach, to join below. Madanach opted to stand at our elevated position and watch over his people.

_This is my chance. _My mind supplied.

I slowly slipped behind him, and when I judged the distance close enough, I attacked. My right arm locked around his neck just as my left clamped over his mouth. I flexed my arm and pulled back trying to cut circulation off to his brain, the best way to knock someone out quickly.

Madanach's arms flailed and he weakly moaned into my hand. He managed to grab a portion of my hair with his right arm and was about to pull on it when the lights cut out for him. He went slack in my arms and I wasted no time in hosting the man's body onto my shoulder before turning and booking it back the way I came.

I pulsed my magic against the man in my arms to make sure that he stayed asleep on the way back up through the mine. He was on my left shoulder, and I drew my sword with my right hand as I moved back through the mine. I knew there wasn't anyone there but the first man, but I wasn't taking any chances.

I don't care what anyone says, carrying a full grown nordic man on your shoulder was not easy work. I wouldn't have been able to do it, had I not used restoration magic to aid me along the way. Anytime a pain would appear in my shoulder or gut, I would heal it and it would last for a little bit longer before having to do it again.

Not once did I hear anyone behind me or in front of me until I reached the entrance to the mine again. Then I heard a lot of people behind me, along with shouting. It almost distracted me from the one person that I knew was still in front of me.

He stood in the shaft with a torch in his hand. "Halt." He said with his sword drawn.

_There's no time. _I realized as the shouting behind me grew louder. _Forgive me. _

I ran towards the man, as fast as I could without dropping the body on my shoulder and brought my sword up. I wasn't willing to risk the rest of my already diminished magicka. He brought his forsworn sword up to block my swing. He succeeded, and then was bowled over as I rammed my shoulder into his chest.

A quick swipe with my sword caused his throat to open and spill his blood onto the floor. He dropped his sword and his hands went to his neck to try to stem the bleeding, he wouldn't' succeed.

I kept running and the shouting increased when I assumed my pursuers found the dead body of the man I just killed. They were getting unbearably close when I finally reached the gate at the entrance of the mine. I opened it up with a little telekinesis and ran through quickly. I shut it and locked it behind me. Ten seconds later, twenty men ran down the entrance shaft behind me.

I turned and started down the steps, hoping that the men from earlier hadn't been found and I wasn't going to walk into the legions arms again. My breath turned ragged as I reached their now cool bodies.

_No one has found them. _I thought as I let out a sigh of gratefulness.

I slipped down the steps and into the city as a clang rang out behind me at the gate to the mines.

* * *

I thanked whatever god responsible for making the mine entrance close to the palace entrance. I knew it wasn't a god, but rather the Dwemer who had designed it that way.

I started pulsing my magic in a very obvious way, like a beacon to anyone who would be able to feel it. I needed Calcelmo.

"State your business." The palace guard, who obviously didn't recognize me, said.

"This." I said lifting my shoulder and showing the man on top of it. "Is Madanach. King of the Forsworn."

I thought that would be all that I had to tell the man, but apparently he didn't get it. "...And?"

I looked at him like he was the dumbest thing on the planet. "I need an audience with the Jarl you fucking idiot, move."

"I can't le.."

I didn't let him finish. I was tired of dealing with stupid people. My right fist shattered his ugly fucking nose and he went down like a puppet with his strings cut. I moved past him and into the palace proper, only to be immediately accosted by two more guards who had apparently been watching.

"Stop, drop the body."

"This is the King of the Forsworn, Madanch. I need to talk to the Jarl!" I snarled at the two men.

"The Jarl is asleep, and doesn't like to be woken."

"I don't give a fuck what he likes. This man is responsible for the Forsworn Uprising!" I couldn't express how unhappy I was to explain it twice. "So go wake him up."

"That's enough!"

I turned and thanked my lucky stars that Calcelmo had felt the pulses of magick that I had sent through the castle.

"Calcelmo. Thank you!" I greeted him.

"Who is that Hadvar?" Calcelmo said pointing at the body on my shoulder.

"Madanach, King of the Forsworn." I answered quickly. .

_Didn't he hear that already. _I wondered.

"Go get the Jarl!" Calcelmo commanded. One of the guards immediately went to do his bidding. "What are you doing here?!"

I was a bit taken aback by his tone, but I didn't back down. "Clearing my name, isn't that what you wanted me to do?"

"What? No! I wanted you to run to Ariella, or Ulfric. Anywhere but back here you fool!" Calcelmo raged.

"I have a plan." I assured him trying to get him to calm down.

"You better!" Calcelmo whispered just as the sounds of boots hitting the floor hit my ears.

The Jarl walked into the room with nothing but a bear skin on his shoulders and boots on his feet….nothing else. And he was pissed.

"There better be a good fucking reason to wake me up at this hour."

* * *

A/N: Cut!

All will be explained in the next chapter, go easy. Does anybody know why Hadvar wouldn't just walk out of the city and head north? Why go through this elaborate plan?

Let's talk in the reviews!


	7. Act I: Chapter 7

Hello everyone,

I normally don't respond to reviews in the chapters. I prefer to respond directly to them, but since the reviewer doesn't have a fanfic account and has a good question I'll make an exception. The question and answer are below.

Question: "Sorry to send the message her but i couldnt pm u because i never created an acckunt on this website, but as you are creating multiple SI fanfics i wondered if you ever planned one in Naruto as Rock lee or something bacause as i read all your stories i can see that you want the SI "suffer" to get stronger and donesn't have everything handed out on a plate"

Answer: So yes I have considered a SI in Naruto. It is my personal favorite anime of all time, flaws and all. And apparently you know me very well because Rock Lee would be at the top of the list for potential candidates for a SI. I won't post anything in that universe for a long time to be honest. I already have a lot on my plate rn and different stories planned, but maybe in the future? Who knows.

To expand on the 'suffer' comment. I am a huge fan of 'The Hero's Journey', and that follows a certain pattern of: Get stronger, get beat down, persevere through, get beat down again, persevere, beat down, beat down, beat down, and finally triumph. So my stories will naturally follow that general guideline, mainly because I believe that life does the same thing to people in their everyday lives.

Anyway, that is probably the last time I will respond to a review that way. I like more personal and private conversations, so if you have another question, make sure that I can respond to you directly.

I won't ramble any today about the past update, because of how much of the A/N I took up already. I hope you all enjoy the chapter!

Authors note at the bottom.

Follow me on instagram at wtmcdonaldauthor

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

"This is the King of the Forsworn?"

The Jarl of Markarth stood in front of the prone form of Madanach. The King in Rags was at our feet still unconscious because of my use of magic to keep him that way.

"Yes, my Jarl." I answered him.

"And Thonar has had him locked away in Cidhna Mine?" The Jarl continued, repeating what I had already told him a couple of times.

"And using him to further his goals in the city and Skyrim." I said.

We still stood in the 'throne room' of the Understone Keep. Well everyone else stood, I sat in a chair that one of the guards had fetched. Carrying a man over your shoulder for a couple miles is no easy task, even if you do have magic to help you.

"Which you think, is to weaken my rule so that he can install a Stormcloak supporting Jarl." Jarl Igmund filled in for me.

"Yes. Or he could want it for himself." I said.

The Jarl in front of me let out a hum as he thought about the problem I had just brought to my doorstep. His right foot stepped on the man beneath him, testing his body before he hummed.

"My father left me quite a tall task." The Jarl said. "I thought I had appeased the old families."

"Nords are stubborn creatures." Calcelmo commented from the side where he leant against a pillar. "They respect strength, and actions over words."

"Am I only words, mage?!" The Jarl asked in a fit of anger.

"No, but Ulfric's actions will echo on these halls for a long time, until a bigger story drowns it out." Calcelmo answered the Jarl's rage with a calm demeanor.

"I need a bigger story, then." The Jarl said, becoming calm once again.

"This presents a great opportunity." I said, throwing my two cents in. Both of the men looked at me curiously, waiting for me to continue. So I obeyed. "They have gone to the Druadach mountains, where Madanach's throne sits."

They went silent then, and began to think about the information I laid out for them. We all knew what I was proposing, but it was never an easy decision.

"Genocide." Calcelmo supplied for all of us.

The Jarl didn't react at first, still thinking. I nodded at the old court wizard, a little shamefully. Erasing a whole people, and culture just didn't sit right with me.

"If they are truly at Druadach, then the choice is already made. I swore to the High King that I would protect my lands and people, from any threat till my last breath." Jarl Igmund said. "They have proven themselves a threat, and are occupying my lands without permission. I have no choice."

I knew this would be the outcome, the moment I decided to break out and make a play for my freedom. I knew that if I brought him the King of the Forsworn, Igmund would smell blood in the water, and strike against the Forsworn. At the end of the day, they acted as terrorists against Skyrim and her people. I felt no remorse for my actions, only satisfaction.

"My Jarl." I spoke up, interrupting the two men.

"Yes?" Igmund entertained.

"I am not a free man." I said a little hesitantly. "And I did not go into those mines out of the goodness of my heart. I did it to buy my freedom."

The Jarl laughed his booming nordic laugh as I finished my sentence. When he was done, I stood there patiently, waiting for him. My anxiety hadn't let me laugh along with him. Even Calcelmo smirked at what I said.

"I will do you one better kinsmen. Markarth hasn't had a proper Thane in years. I would burden you with the honor!"

My heart thumped loudly in my chest as I realized what he just said. Before the 'merge', I had considered being a Thane as the highest honor I could reasonably attain in my life. Now, I knew I was going much higher than that, but it was still a great honor and accomplishment.

"I don't know what to say, my Jarl." I said, but tradition took over and I dropped to a knee in front of him. "It is an honor beyond words."

"You are refreshing, young Hadvar!" The Jarl said as he loomed over me. "But being a Thane is more political and ceremonial than anything, admittedly."

_Of course it is, but it gives me credibility, and political power immediately. _I said to myself while thinking about how I could use it to my advantage.

"I will accept it nonetheless." I told the Jarl.

"Now, we have a battle to prepare for, a captain to sack, and Stormcloak supporters to strongarm into submission."

* * *

I can't tell you how satisfying it was to walk into my old captain's office, with the symbol of Markarth on my breast and the Jarl at my side.

"Get out of my seat." I said as he stared at me and the Jarl, processing what was happening. When he didn't move, I walked over to where he sat dumbfounded and lifted him up by his neck and arm before shoving him face first on the desk.

"What is this madness?!" The ex-captain said as his face met the desk. "I'll have you court martialed, you jumped up…"

He couldn't continue his sentence, because I had lifted his head up and smashed it back on the table, breaking his nose and knocking him out. Once again, I can't describe the feeling of euphoria that rushed through my system as he slumped to the ground.

"A proper Nord, aren't you young Hadvar." The Jarl said with a laugh at the body now on the floor. "But that is only your seat, until General Tullius says otherwise."

"Of course, my Jarl." I said. "I have been waiting to do that for a very long time now." I told him with a smile on my face.

He returned the smile and nodded in satisfaction. "I know the feeling! He always was a rat bastard." The Jarl told me as he walked out of the door. "Clean this up, and meet me at the keep. We have more to do."

"Bjorn!" I barked towards the door. The man entered with cuffs in his hands and two men behind him. "Get this corrupt piece of shit out of my sight."

Bjorn and the men obeyed me and lifted the man up and cuffed him. I grabbed Bjorn as he walked past me. "Don't kill him." I told the man.

It didn't take long for Bjorn to reveal why him and the men were so cold to me during my stay in the cells. Apparently, all of them were close to being court martialed just from their association with me, according to the ex-captain. I knew that the captain would have a hard time getting to the jail cell in one piece.

Bjorn nodded at me as they too left. I was alone, in my temporary new office. I knew I wouldn't hold the position, once word got out. In fact, the only reason I was able to occupy it for a little was because of my new title as Thane of Markarth. The Jarl had not only given me the title of Thane, but had elected me as general for the coming campaign against the Forsworn because of how well I had trained the men during my time as Quaestor and Praefect.

In his own words. "This is my city, and I pay the legion a lot of money to rent their men. I'll do as I like. Tullius himself better come have a talk with me if he dislikes it."

I didn't complain, as I was about to get some serious political weight in Skyrim. The man who secured the Reach for Skyrim for generations to come has a good ring to it.

_That's only the beginning._

* * *

I walked in the Jarl's office, which was the size of a large house, to see two similar looking middle-aged men standing in front of him. They didn't have cuffs on their hands, but the guards standing behind them didn't make me think they had a choice but to attend the meeting.

"Ah, my new Thane has arrived." Jarl Igmund said as he looked up from his desk.

_How long has he made them stand there and wait on me?_ I wondered as I nodded a greeting at the men.

"Hadvar, this is Thongvor and Thonar Silver-Blood." The Jarl said while gesturing towards the two men, both of them nodded to me and waited for the Jarl to continue.

"Hadvar here came to me last night, with a man on his shoulder screaming about 'The King in Rags'." The Jarl said dramatically.

The one introduced as Thongvor put his head in his hands and pinched his nose for a moment, as he realized what was going on. Thonar showed no outward reaction of the news.

"Madanach, a man thought dead or exiled deep in the mountains, King of the Forsworn dropped at my feet by a man in jail." The Jarl continued.

Both of the Silver-Bloods were sweating then, and looked in my direction.

"And where did he get the King in Rags?" Igmund asked the two brothers in front of him.

"My Jarl, I.." Thongvor started his begging.

"Shut up, Thongvor!" Thonar barked at his brother, standing like an unmovable object. Thongvor cowered beneath his younger brother and shut his mouth.

"It seems you two know just how serious this matter is." Jarl Igmund said after watching the exchange between the two brothers.

"I told you!" Thongvor said to his little brother.

Thonar looked like he was about to murder his older brother. "Shut up, Thongvor!" He yelled, to the same effect as earlier.

We all stood in silence for a good long moment. Jarl Igmund and I stared at the two brothers with hard eyes. Thongvor managed to weather my gaze for a full minute before cowering, showing his weakness as a nord. I snorted. Igmund and Thonar's staring contest lasted a long time, before Thonar looked down in submission. I smirked at our little victory.

"Tell me everything." Jarl Igmund said even though he knew pretty much everything.

Thongvor went to speak before Thonar shot him a look. Then Thonar decided to speak.

"Thongvor has been the official head of the family since our father died in the war. It soon became apparent that he was incapable of properly managing it, so I took over. Then I discovered the King in Rags and a city of Forsworn in my very own mine. He was willing to do whatever it took to keep his people alive, and I saw an opportunity." Thonar admitted to his Jarl.

"So it is safe to assume that the terror that the Forsworn have inflicted on my city over the years is because of you, Thonar?" Jarl Igmund asked the man.

"Most of them, yes. But in the last year, Madanach has become increasingly uncontrollable. I was developing plans to dispose of the problem before it became one." Thonar said and shot a glare at my direction.

"You were too late." I told him quickly. "When I took him, most of his people were already out of the city or packing up the last of it. They are half-way to Druadach by now." Thonar took in the information with a stone face.

"And so I discover a conspiracy in my city, one that I now have to clean up." Jarl Igmund said as I finished. "Can you imagine what I have in store for you two?"

"Execution." Thonar said the word as if it was already decided. I will admit that he faced the prospect like a true nord would. His brother was a different story. Thongvor started looking around the room at the guards surrounding them, and his face showed terror.

He dropped to his knees, and looked like he was about to begin weeping. Thonar watched his brother with nothing but disdain on his face.

"No." Jarl Igmund shot the idea down. Thongvor looked up from his position on the floor, with a pitiful look of hope on his face. The Jarl sighed in disappointment at the man's actions.

"It was a mistake to make the mine a prison, and give the most powerful family free labor. It has allowed you to rise to the top of Markarth, and foster the deepest pockets in western Skyrim. That changes today." Jarl Igmund said, starting to reveal his master plan.

"From now on, the mine will employ citizens of Markarth."

That single statement, represented an absolutely masterful decision as Jarl. I had no idea the ridiculous deal the Silver-Blood family had prior to this meeting. They had one of the most profitable mines on the continent, with almost no overhead. At least seventy percent less overhead they should have had.

That wasn't even the best part. Markarth was about to see a boom in the local economy. The city did well before, but not enough to stand out from the other holds around Skyrim. Despite its close proximity to two major 'states' in Tamriel. Those being High Rock and Hammerfell. It should be the premier city in Skyrim, but the Silver-Bloods have been holding it back.

Now, with a small change to a single family's mine. Igmund had redistributed a significant portion of wealth to his people, stimulating the economy of his city. An economy that he gets to tax, and return the money to his pocket before redistributing it to his city in other projects like exploring the rest of the Dwemer ruins deep in the mountain, or improving infrastructure of the city.

This would lead to more money in the people's pockets, so that they could start their own businesses that would thrive because of the overall wealth of his subjects. Then the cycle would repeat. Obviously, this wouldn't happen overnight, but in a few generations, Markarth would be the hold it was meant to be.

It showed a lot of his overall competency as a Jarl. His grasp on the politics and the economy of his city was worth noting. This would lead to the Silver-Bloods downfall in the politics of the city, thrusting his position of Jarl as the main political player, as it was intended. I was impressed.

The Jarl continued to describe the changes that would go on in the mine. He detailed a new tax structure that was more than generous to the Silver-Bloods. He could have gone for the jugular, and within a decade they would have whittled away to a minor family after they were forced to sell the mine to stay afloat. Instead, with this, he kept a very powerful family under his watch and the city, and by extension: the people, profited from it.

After both of the brothers signed their names on the dotted line, I could feel the air shift for the city of Markarth. As we left the Jarl's office, Igmund said something that I found oddly appropriate.

"Blood and silver flow through this city no more."

* * *

I stood, watching over the training grounds of the Imperial Legion in Markarth. At least a thousand men stood below me, in marching formation practicing basic movements that should have been mastered a long time ago.

"They look good, Thane." Calcelmo said as he joined me and the Jarl on the raised platform.

"These are basics that should have been beaten into the men before they ever got their first posting." I told the old Court Wizard.

"You have been busy, these past few weeks." Jarl Igmund said as he looked out over the men in the training grounds.

"First thing I did is make sure we are ready for the coming battle." I confirmed.

"I don't know where you got this idea." The Master Wizard countered.

I shot him a look. "What idea?"

"The idea that legion has been anything but disappointing since the Great War." Calcelmo said.

I thought about that for a moment, and eventually I mentally agreed with him. When I joined, it was because of stories that had been in circulation since the days of Tiber Septim. Stories of a Legion that conquered the continent. Now, I have let go of that ideal. The Legion is shit, but it wouldn't be for forever, and I would start with Markarth.

"Tiber Septim conquered the continent with the Imperial Legion, and brought in an era of prosperity." I said. "How is it that in the same time our culture and way of life has grown leaps in bounds, the very reason for that prosperity has been undermined so much that it feels like we're going backwards?"

"The Elves." Jarl Igmund answered simply, and spat on the ground in disgust.

"You correlate martial prowess with prosperity?" Calcelmo asked curiously, and I was reminded of the researcher he was at heart.

"Absolutely. Speak softly, and carry a big stick." I told him a famous quote from my last life.

"The Great War took its toll on Tamriel. Tiber Septim led the continent into prosperity for everyone but the High Elves. When he marched on them, he set the race, and magic with them, back six hundred years. For such a long lived race, you must understand that the grudges they hold last for thousands of years." It was Jarl Igmund that cut in this time, and he once again revealed his intelligence under that nordic head.

"They have recovered the magic thought lost, and gone further in their ambition." Calcelmo said. "You remember the ambassador sent with Ariella?"

"Ancano." I nodded. "Are you telling me that the Aldmeri Dominion, and the Great War are to blame for the state of the Legion, and by extension the continent."

"That is exactly correct." Jarl Igmund confirmed before getting a thoughtful look on his face. "I like that saying. 'Speak softly, and carry a big stick.'"

I smiled at the man. "You can use it, just make sure I get the credit!" I joked.

We all stood in silence after that, and turned our gaze to the men below, once again. I couldn't stop thinking about the Aldmeri Dominion. In the games, they were in the background manipulating Ulfric Stormcloak and the civil war to weaken the Imperial Legion and the Empire. Was it the same in this world? The only evidence to support that idea was Ancano, and even that was a stretch.

"The Aldmeri Dominion huh?" I could help but ask.

"You have no idea."

* * *

A/N: Boom!

So I know that some people will think that Jarl Igmund was too lenient on the Silver-Bloods but I really want you to think about public opinion and politics before disagreeing with me. If you still disagree, then let me hear it!

So Hadvar jumped up in the world by a lot, and has gained the title of Thane for Markarth. It will be explained what all that entails later, I promise. Now him being in charge of the legion in the city is TEMPORARY! It's basically Jarl Igmund giving a middle finger to the legion and the High Elves.

What did we think? This is my plan on speeding the story up a little bit. We've got some battles coming soon, and some politics that will come into play soon. I'm excited for it.

Let me know what you think in the reviews!


	8. Act I: Chapter 8

Hello everyone,

The stories are getting so much love nowadays it's incredible. Thank you all for the support! This story is growing the fastest out of any of my others. It's almost about to pass up my baby Stronghammer. It's to be expected, I suppose. My writing has improved by leaps and bounds since then.

On to the chapter! Authors note at the bottom!

Follow me on instagram at wtmcdonaldauthor!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

It was odd walking through what one could reasonably call 'my city', as far as the legion was concerned at least.

When I walked passed, my men stood a little straighter and their eyes focused on the task at hand. They did not lounge around their stationed areas, they stood straight unless on a break. Their armor gleamed under the harsh sun, freshly polished.

But more importantly, they stood with confidence. They stood as if they knew how to hold the weapon on their side, even if most only had a basic understanding. That was more than enough to do their job properly.

I smiled to myself as pride rushed through my frame. _This is what the legion is supposed to be about, this is what it is supposed to represent. Order, justice, safety. _I thought to myself.

This did not mean that I had cleaned up the city and brought in a new wave of peace, not at all in fact. The men that didn't adapt to the new change in leadership, found themselves working graveyard shifts or spread throughout the less important districts in the city, the ones where crime was low.

But in the market district, where I currently walked, the men were solid, as were the men that would relieve them for the other hours of the day. I wasn't back at the barracks, but I knew that there was men training and marching, just as I commanded, for the upcoming raid on the Forsworn.

As it turns out, corruption ran deeper than just the ex-captain. Apparently, it was an easy thing to get out of a crime, if you were willing to pay off the guards who caught you. I was currently thinking on ways to cut out the corruption, but everything I thought of was only short term. But I honestly had more pressing things to do, and that was prepare for a battle.

"Sir!"

I turned to the voice to see a random guard, in full uniform. I couldn't make out his features through his helmet, but I could hear his ragged breathing, telling me that he had been running.

"Yes?" I asked the guard.

"The Jarl requests your presence." The guard managed to get out.

"Did he say why?" I asked as I started walking that direction.

"Reports from Druadach are back."

* * *

Understone Keep seamed to gleam more and more everyday.

At least it did to me. Maybe it was another pride thing? The fact that it's protection rested on my shoulders was stressful, and also rewarding. It didn't take me long to reach the Jarl's office, now the war room. The same room I had seen the Silver-Blood family get knocked down a few pegs in.

"Hadvar! We have news!" Igmund's voice called out as he recognized me.

I nodded to him just as the rest of the room turned my direction. There were a couple of unfamiliar faces, but the patches on the side of their armour told me everything I needed to know.

I walked up to where they were standing in a circle. In the middle of all of them laid a map with certain points of interest marked on it. It was a map of Druadach Redoubt. I stood to attention in front of the newcomers fairly quickly.

"At ease, soldier." A gruff voice came from the man with the private rank on his shoulder. "This is still your city, for now. I'm just here to make sure you don't fuck it up."

I didn't let my surprise at his informal address show. I actually expected Tullius to send someone to replace me, but apparently I just got a babysitter.

_I'm fine with it. Let him see how competent I am, or am not. _I thought to myself about the situation. _Just another opportunity. _

"Thank you, Sir!" I croaked out.

"Private Loren." The man introduced himself with a hand out.

I grasped his hand. "Praefect Hadvar." I told the man.

"Bah!" Jarl Igmund spat out. "Thane Hadvar, nothing less!" The Jarl corrected me with a grin.

"I'm still in the legion, my Jarl." I told the man with a sideways glance. "And last I checked, I was still Praefect."

"Ha!" The newly introduced Private Loren laughed. If I didn't know he was a nord by the black braided beard on his face, or his stature, his bark of laughter would have told me so. "A humble one isn't he, and acts like a proper soldier despite it all."

"He is of the impression that the legion needs some work, and I think he means to set a good example of what to follow." Jarl Igmund added on to the Private's words while also throwing my motivation out there.

I glared at the Jarl but didn't say anything. I didn't particularly want the man who was high enough rank to answer only to General Tullius to know everything about me, but I kept my mouth shut.

Private was a weird rank in the Legion. First and foremost, it meant that even though his outward appearance wouldn't show it, he was a smart man. Second, it showed a certain amount of martial prowess. Third, he knew how to play the political game. I was already assuming that he was one of the people closest to General Tullius in all of Skyrim. The fact that he was a Nord meant that he knew our traditions, and could advise the General accurately. His playful banter with Jarl Igmund showed that the Jarl approved of the man, and that meant he was a proper nord.

_He's here on business. Don't forget that, Hadvar. _I told myself.

"That means he has a good head on his shoulders then." Loren said in response to my criticism. "And he knows how to lead men." Loren's tone turned a little contemplative and he eyed me, appraising me.

"Lead by example." I commented, telling him how I liked to do things.

"Exactly." Loren said.

Jarl Igmund watched our little exchange with a smile on his face before clapping his hands and getting everyone attention. Calcelmo caught my eye and nodded approvingly before giving his attention to the Jarl.

"Now, our spies are back, and they bring information. The Forsworn are in the exact location our Thane said they would be." Jarl Igmund said with a gesture towards me. I didn't do anything to show that I noticed the gesture. "And it seems like they know we're coming, or at the very least, they don't care."

I frowned, wondering where this was going. _What do you mean they don't care? _

"We even got a rough estimate of their numbers." The Jarl revealed. "Roughly seven thousand people call Druadach Redoubt home, not including the cave system."

_Fuck, we'll be heavily outnumbered. _I thought as I heard the number. I didn't let it show on my face, instead I kept a neutral but confident look. _The mountain will be used to our advantage. _

"We have obtained a rough map of the trails that lead into their hidden valley, you see it before you." The Jarl said as he pointed at the map on the table in front of everyone.

"What is our attacking force?" Loren asked as the Jarl paused for a moment.

Jarl Igmund nodded to me to answer, so I obliged. "Two-thousand legionnaires, and roughly seventeen hundred citizens of Markarth." I answered, before adding. "Jarl Igmund has ordered and paid for his citizens to be armed, while the Legion has funded our own, as the agreement with the Jarl's father specified."

Loren nodded at me. "And these citizens have been trained?"

"All of them have been introduced to the marching of the Imperial Legion, but few have attended daily training after that." I answered quickly.

Calcelmo decided to let his presence be known then, and cut in. "So we have two-thousand, barely trained men and seventeen hundred people who will run around and get in our way?"

_Exactly. _I thought to myself, but did not let my agreement show.

Loren did not have such reservations, apparently. "Precisely." He said.

"My people are there for the morale of the city. I will not hide behind the Legion and let them win my battles. That would do nothing but encourage the Stormcloak support within the city. We need to give them this." Jarl Igmund said, once again showing his competency as Jarl. I had agreed to it, for the exact same reason, Markarth as whole needed to support the Legion fully.

I decided to let everyone in on the battle plan that I had concocted standing there and staring at the map while the conversation went on. "There are five main roads that lead into the city. They wind up the side of the mountain. These three…" I said as I pointed them out. One approached from the east, one from the west, and one led to the heart of the city. "...are the only ones capable of holding an army on them."

I was about to bark out a plan, before I thought better of it and looked towards the Jarl. "Do you have a plan of attack yet?" I asked.

Igmund was smiling wide, watching me work. He shook his head negative and gestured for me to continue.

"There are no walls to this city." I said gesturing to the map. "That means there is no siege. We march, they fall." I said simply. "Jarl Igmund will lead his men up the center road, to the heart of the city. I will leave it up to him to determine how to best accomplish this. Private Loren and I will split the legion in half and secure the eastern and western roads."

I looked to Loren questioning, before he nodded that he was willing. "Jarl Igmund, I ask that you attack first and draw their main force in the center." I told them while moving a piece of wood on the board to the proper place on the map. "While you are fighting, we will move into the heart of the city, on both sides…" Once again I took two pieces of wood and followed both paths to the heart of the city. "...then we will trap their main force, and attack on both sides." I left one piece at the heart of the city and the other, I slid down to meet Jarl Igmunds piece.

The steward of the city, a man who rarely spoke up but was always beside the Jarl's side, added his two cents in. "Why should we take on the biggest risk? We have the least amount of soldiers, and the Jarl will be in danger!"

"I have seen war before…"

I cut the Jarl off. No doubt he was going to say that he was entirely capable of staying alive in a war. But I had an explanation.

"First of all, when I split my men, it will be one thousand on each path." I said as if he was incapable of common math. "That means the Jarl will have the largest force at seventeen hundred." I said condescendingly.

"Second, this will further the thought that it was the Jarl, not the legion, who conquered the Forsworn. 'The Jarl led his men directly into the heart of the city and fought against the Forsworn's best warriors.' No one will care if it was truly the legion who captured the city after that." I answered finally.

The steward's face burned red in embarrassment, and the room went silent as they went over my plan. Every single person around the table looked at the mountain and pondered my simple plan. It was not complicated, but it did not need to be. If the Forsworn were anything like the games, then they fought with even less tactics than normal nords. And we have better equipment.

"Hahahaha!" The Jarl roared. It startled me, but I didn't let it show. Loren smiled beside me at the Jarl's antics. "I love it!"

I smiled at the approval from the Jarl, and looked towards my superior officer to see what he thought about it. He had one hand running through his beard and the other on the table. He was obviously looking for faults in the plan. Eventually he looked up and smiled.

"It's as good of a plan as any."

"You have done a good job here, soldier."

I stopped to look behind me, to see who spoke. It was Private Loren. I was currently walking back to the barracks to get some much needed rest after spending all day in the war room. Apparently the Private had more to speak to me about.

We had just gotten done going over the battle plans and finalizing everything. Nothing had really changed, we were just trying to figure out dates and supply chain problems.

_An army marches on its stomach. _I had thought many, many times during the meeting.

"Thank you, sir." I said simply. I didn't really know what to say to the praise. "I have gotten used to the position. It will be hard to go back to Praefect."

Loren laughed. "Ah yes, that slipped my mind. I was given orders to investigate what happened here with the previous Captain. Margret's recounting of the events cleared it up before I even stepped into the city."

_So she didn't really die. _I thought to myself about the redheaded nord. Loren eyed me, waiting for a reaction. He didn't get one.

"She's already been reassigned, you'll most likely never see her again." Loren said, revealing that Margret really had given him a detailed report of the goings on of the city. "I admit that we had suspected corruption for a long time, but never did we think it was as bad as it was. The Legion owes you a debt that it is prepared to pay …. Legate."

That made me stop in my tracks, and I processed the title. _That has to be the fastest promotion to Legate in the history of the Legion. _I thought.

"I don't know what to say sir, thank you." I managed to say, while keeping the happiness out of my voice.

"Tullius thinks, and I agree, that nobody below the rank of Legate is capable of commanding an entire military operation. He would have given you private, had he not needed you to respect me." Loren said. "There is also precedent to consider, and jumping to Legate is questionable enough. Igmund left us no choice however."

_I owe Igmund a lot. _I thought. _Or is our debt even? I gave him seventy percent of the corruption in the city and a way to unite his people against a common enemy on a silver platter._

That actually made sense. Who in their right mind would let a Praefect lead two thousand men into battle? If I succeed, then they value potential and reward their men properly. If we lose, then they are seen as massively incompetant. That's why Tullius sent Loren, to make sure that we didn't lose.

_I bet he didn't forget to promote me at all. I bet he had the authority to strip me of my commanding position if he found me wanting. _I thought about the situation. My respect level for General Tullius rose a few notches, and it was already fairly high.

_More importantly, how competent is Loren, if Tullius is willing to send him to clean up this whole mess. _

"You won't regret it." I told the man. The Private let his inner nord show and hardened his voice, before leaving me with a warning.

"You'd better hope that I don't."

I watched the Private leave. I wasn't too worried about the warning he had left me, I had been going for broke for a while now. I actually understood their position. I would feel the same if a Jarl had placed an untested Praefect at the head of an entire city guard, made that same Praefect Thane of the city, and commander of an upcoming military campaign. Tullius must have been pissed when he got the news.

"Dramatic, no?" Calcelmo's voice drifted to me at the same pace his footsteps did.

"Hmmm."

"I have something to show you." Calcelmo said.

I turned away from the form of Private Loren and turned to follow the old Wizard to whatever he had in mind for me.

"Is it some mystical weapon that will help in the upcoming war?" I asked, throwing the most ridiculous thing I could think of out there. Unfortunately, I did not have protagonist luck or plot armour, I was a simple nord with a little more knowledge of the world than normal.

"Not even close." Calcelmo shot down quickly. I smirked in response. "Congratulations on the new promotion."

"Thank you, how long have you been listening in?" I asked, not knowing when he would have come across the information.

"It was only a matter of time before they gave it to you." Calcelmo said. "I'm surprised it took them so long."

"I think it's a bit ridiculous." I revealed.

"What makes you say that?" Calcelmo asked curiously.

"I have not been in the Legion for very long, and yet I am already Legate." I said. "Even if it is deserving, I'm surprised."

I try to be humble, but sometimes I just say what is true. I was more competent than almost anyone else in this world to be a leader of men. Mentally, I outstrip most in the entirety of the legion, and my martial prowess is there with the sword and rising with magic. I'd even toyed with the idea of becoming an Imperial Battlemage because of it.

"Sometimes, you are wise beyond your years and display amazing intelligence. Other times, you sound so naive." Calcelmo responded with a tisk. "The previous Captain was the son of a noble in Cyrodiil and was going nowhere. He forced his son into the Legion and bought him the captain position as far away as he could. That boy started as Captain of the city guard of Markarth. You are infinitely more competent, and you are surprised at reaching the rank of Legate after a few months?"

_Ummmm. _I thought. _Well when you put it like that…_

Was it because of precedents in my old life that I assumed time was important in promotions? The military in my old life was almost completely based on the idea of time put in, as opposed to being merit-based promotions. Not that I was in the military, but I knew people who were and they were very vocal of the fact.

"I knew I hated him for a reason." I said, trying to joke off what Calcelmo revealed. We kept walking for a moment, and descended into silence for a while.

"Have you kept up your studies in magic?" Calcelmo asked.

"Yes." I told him truthfully. "My reserves have grown massively over the past few months."

"Yes I can feel that." Calcelmo said with a look in his eye that he was tired of my meditation exercises. "I meant with the schools of magic."

"Be specific." I told him.

"Fine, where are you in restoration?" Calcelmo asked.

"I have a great knowledge in biology and how the body works, so it comes easily. I am only limited by my reserves." I answered.

"Illusion?" Calcelmo asked.

"I just deciphered 'Vision of the Tenth Eye', which I thought was a spell, but is actually just a universal key to unlocking the enchantment placed on master level and above books." I said incredulously. It had taken me a few days to realize that I didn't actually have to achieve a mindset with the magic to unlock the books. I just need to pick the magical lock on the book with my magic. I assumed it was similar for all valuable tomes.

Calcelmo chuckled a bit. "Yes, that is always amusing to watch young magic users discover. It's been a running joke for master magicians for as long as anyone can remember. We find it hilarious."

I rolled my eyes. "Truly a masterful prank that has lasted for millenia probably."

"Alteration?"

That actually reminded me of something I had wanted to ask him. I stopped walking. I raised my hand and willed my magic to the surface before bringing it into the world. A blue, ethereal, shield appeared in front of me, although it was shaped like a dragon's scale.

"I've chosen to base the ward off of dragonscale." I said giving him some context. "But it becomes exponentially harder to make it bigger."

Calcelmo smirked at me as he noticed my struggle. Then I _felt _him summon his magick. The next thing I knew, I was surrounded by a yellow dome that encompassed me and Calcelmo plus six feet on either side. The coolest thing was that it wasn't one big shield, in fact it looked like he had hundreds of small dwemer gear-like shields interlocked together.

I looked at the yellow shield and could instantly tell that his motivation was different to mine. I wanted spells to _slide _off of the shield, instead of being halted completely. His version dispersed the force among the entirety of the shield without endangering one zone.

"Amazing." I said as he showed me the proper way to construct a bigger and better shield without actually speaking.

I summoned my own dragonscale based shield again, but smaller. It appeared about a third of the original size, and then I added one more on it while structuring it like a dragon's hide. My magicka shifted, but didn't really strain like it did when I just poured magicka into spells. Then I added another scale, and then another scale, and finally I was covering my body with a dragonscale shield but I was straining myself and my magick severely. Another thought and the shield turned from blue to yellow to green to red. I felt a bead of sweat trickle down my face as I let the shield go.

"Very good!" Calcelmo said as he let his own spell fade. "You see, manipulating the way you're using the magicka is more important and efficient than using more of it. Folding it, twisting it, bending it! That is when true mastery comes into play."

I had rarely seen Calcelmo so enthusiastic than when talking about magic and its applications. I frowned, thinking of how hard it was to concentrate enough to even cover my body with the scales.

_How did he get it so big. _I thought about his giant dome of a yellow shield.

"I couldn't get many more scales than that." I said.

"It's impressive you got that far on your first try. You will learn to memorize the mindset needed for certain spells just like you do sword forms, or did you forget that little metaphor you used not so long ago?" Calcelmo said, reminding me of the time I had compared magic and swordplay.

I smiled, knowing that he had gotten me with that one.

"Now, we are almost there." Calcelmo said as he took off down the hall. His steps had increased a little because of our interaction with magic.

I followed him into a room that I realized must have been his quarters, a place I hadn't been to in all the time I had known the man. The significance was not lost on me.

"In my youth, I made it a point to travel the world and find the ruins of the Dwemer." Calcelmo said. "That proved perilous many times, so I had something commissioned. It has been sitting here collecting dust."

I noted the little bit of information of his past that I could get and prepared myself for whatever it was that he was talking about.

"Your new position allows for a customization in your wardrobe, does it not?" Calcelmo asked.

"Yes, Legates are required to note their position but they do not care how." I said, confirming the information.

Calcelmo led me to a golden door, and opened it with a wave of his hand. It moved faster than it should have for its size and weight. The room on the other side of the door was littered with artifacts that would have been more appropriate for Dumbledore's office. I didn't even dare touch some of them.

My gaze was drawn to the center, where an armor mannequin sat. On it was a finely made red set of gambeson armor. There were three clasps above the belt that were styled in the shape of a dragon's head. The belt itself was black, with gold accents etched into it. Below the belt, it split, extended, and flared out in a type of skirt that would protect the thighs but let you run in it comfortably also. On the sleeves, the rank of Legate sat etched proudly.

"Obviously, you are a fair bigger than me so I had it tailored. It took quite a long time, you have no idea how hard it is to add the chainmail inside. In the end, they practically remade the damn thing for me." Calcelmo said.

"That's fucking awesome!"

* * *

A/N: Boom!

We finally got some response to what General Tullius is thinking about what is going on in Markarth. Private Loren don't play no shit son! Private was a rank mentioned in the games but no one actually held the title, so I decided to play with it a little. What do we think?

The raid on the Forsworn is coming and they have a plan. What do we think about it?

Let's talk in the reviews!


	9. Act I: Chapter 9

Hello everyone,

So Stronghammer, my very first story on this site, has been complete for a couple of months now. I've noticed that the favorites for it continue to grow more than follows do. But when it was still being updated regularly, the followers grew faster than favorites. What's up with that? Is there some unspoken fanfiction system that I haven't been aware of? Do you guys follow stories, and when they get finished throw a favorite in there? Or is it that when people stumble upon a story, and it's already completed they don't feel the need to follow, and instead will favorite it? EXPLAIN, I NEED THE ANSWER IT'S TORTURING ME.

Anyway, this story will be updated on Monday's for the foreseeable future. Work's schedule is all over the place right now, so it might be Saturday and it might be Monday. Whichever day I have off and am able to write on.

On to the chapter. Authors note at the bottom. Follow me on instagram at wtmcdonaldauthor.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

_Skyrim is huge. _

I thought that exact thought, many times over the course of our journey towards Druadach. Wildlife roamed aplenty in the fields and forests. Wolves stalked deer, huge wolves. Bears stood on their back legs and looked at our procession of marching men. They usually turned around and ran off after they saw enough of us. Local Nords stood outside their houses and watched with their children. Some of the teenagers even asked to join, eager for glory and not knowing what they asked for. All of them were denied, and told to seek out the recruiting office in Markarth or whichever city they preferred. I will not send children to their deaths, not without them knowing exactly what they're getting into after being trained for months. I felt bad enough with the men in my possession now.

The days bled together and the sounds of thousands of feet hitting the ground at the same time rang in my skull constantly. My position as Legate and general of the operation offered me the privilege to ride the huge Clydesdale-like horses of Skyrim. Although I was constantly moving up and down the line of people, making sure the lines were being held and we weren't leaving anyone behind. I would always encourage bursts of illusion magick. Courage, Calm, whatever the situation called for. I rode past, and the men would stand a little straighter, would move a little more crisply.

When I wasn't doing that, I was reading magickal tomes as I absentmindedly rode beside the Jarl and Private Loren. I was actually surprised at how much time I was allowed to dedicate towards practice. I ran through the Adept illusion texts and I started to see the pattern in the art. The basics focused on a mindset you wanted to influence in others. As you progressed into harder and harder spells, the goal stayed the same but the effect became increasingly more complex. For example, 'Rally' was known as the introduction for true proficiency in the art. It expanded on the earlier spells and incorporated all of their aspects. 'Courage', 'Calm', and 'Fear' all played a part in the adept level spell.

'Rally' focuses on bringing out all of the good mindsets needed for battle like focus and courage, while expelling things like fear and fury. The trend continued as you moved up difficulty levels. The ultimate 'Illusion' spell, incorporated some 'Restoration' aspects into it. 'Call to Arms' is the pinnacle of 'Illusion' magick and actually distributed stamina, and small healing magick to allies in the area. It was perfect for me, a person who started late practicing magick but had the opportunity like leading men into battle. I knew that 'Call to Arms' was a long way away, but 'Rally' didn't seem impossible for me.

I drew many gazes from the men around me, and people started to talk of my proficiency. Loren and the Jarl would look my way every time I practiced expanding my ward or was holding a ball of rotating flame. They appreciated my work ethic, but I could see the nord coming out in both of them. They didn't like that I was so eager to work on my magick.

They spent most of their day navigating us towards our destination. Admittedly, all they did was talk about the same path we were taking over and over again. East out of the city and mountains along the main road that leads to northern Skyrim. The same road that would continue to Solitude. We wouldn't go that far.

The road followed along the Karth River, which eventually dumped off into the Sea of Ghosts near Solitude. We would jump off the road a little north of Karthwasten and move west back into the mountains to where our spies said Druadach Redoubt would lie.

It was projected to take us a month to get there, it took us that long to get off the road in Karthwasten. Then another two weeks before we hit the mountains. Everyday was the same. Wake up, train the men, breakfast, start marching, break at mid-day, train, march, break about an hour before sunset and set up camp, train, go to sleep, wake up and repeat.

Then about two days after trekking into the mountains, we ran into the first group of Forsworn scouts.

* * *

I hopped off of my trusty steed and landed on the ground with a light thud. My joints ached from the long day of riding, but a burst of healing magick took care of it quickly.

There was a small crowd of soldiers, standing at parade rest and prepared to intervene should the need arise. I walked through their ranks to see a young boy dressed in the typical hides of a Forsworn agent. I sighed internally, at the predicament the child found himself in. No doubt, he thought himself a man.

"At ease." I said to the men around me, only one of them moved. The man standing next to the boy in chains, making sure he didn't run off addressed me.

"The boy was caught spying, our archer managed to clip this one. But the other two escaped." The legionnaire told me.

I looked around the boy's form for the wound, and found it on his thigh. It was on the outside, instead of the inside of the leg and not very deep so I knew he wasn't about to bleed out.

"Has he said anything?" I asked.

"Cursed us to Sovngarde and back, but nothing of merit." The legionnaire answered.

I nodded to the soldier and approached the boy on the ground. The sound of hooved behind me told me that Private Loren and the Jarl had most likely just arrived. I kneeled to meet the boy in the eyes. He glanced around nervously.

"Tell me, how far are we from the city?" I asked the boy simply.

The boy's nervousness fled him for a moment, and he smiled at me. He did not respond beyond that smile.

I summoned my magicka, and fed it into the boy. It did not take me long to latch on to the fear he was already feeling and draw it out significantly, enhancing it. The smile dropped from his face immediately.

"Answer me. Or I will feed you to my men." I lied. Of course that wouldn't happen, but Forsworn told terrible stories of the legion, and he was young.

I increased my hold on his fear and folded the magicka. The sound of piss hitting the ground reached my ears but I did not look away from the boy's eyes. I held it for a moment before shutting it off and switching emotions to courage. No doubt he would think he was being brave before his death. I was just manipulating him into giving me what I wanted.

"Kill me, I will be avenged! My people will not run, we are prepared for you, and we will take what is ours after we kill you." The boy said as he puffed his chest out and stared me down.

_Hook, line, and sinker. _I grinned as I grabbed the boy's shoulder and hauled him onto his feet. I switched his emotion back to fear and I unsheathed my sword before pointing it at his chest.

"How far?!" I said increasing his fear beyond what I had done earlier.

He fell to the ground and started to back peddle with his feet, trying to get away from me in a panic. "Two days!" The boy shouted.

I cut the magicka off almost immediately, although it didn't disappear from his system completely. I put my sword back in it's sheath and then put my knee on the boys chest to hold him down for what I was about to do. I reached down to the arrow protruding from his leg. I ripped it out without any care in the world. He yelled out, but didn't move because of my hold on him.

My hand went to the bleeding wound for a few seconds, and a yellow glow enveloped it. I focused on the muscles and tendons repairing themselves along with the blood vessels and skin. It took me about thirty seconds to heal the wound, even with him squirming around all over the place.

When I finished, I let the boy go and turned back to the men, who were staring at me with wide eyes.

"Let him go." I commanded.

"But sir.." The legionnaire started to object.

"His companions left him here so that they could escape. Whether or not he returns to his people will not matter in the long run. They know we are coming, and they think they can beat us." I told the soldier with a hard tone, not happy he was questioning me. "The outcome will be the same. Let him go, soldier."

I didn't look back to see if my orders were being obeyed, but I knew they were. I hopped back into the saddle just as Igmund and Loren rode up beside me.

"We march!" I yelled out and sent out a burst of 'courage' with my magick. The men around me let out a holler just as I started back towards the front of the procession.

When we were out of hearing range from the men, the Jarl decided to speak up.

"That boy could lead to the death of one of our men." Igmund said. "Are you sure letting him go was wise?"

_I do not kill children. _I wanted to say immediately, but I did not. They would think me weak for not being able to make difficult decisions.

"Then that will be another man to reach Sovngarde." I told him, using our heritage as an excuse. "There are some Forsworn who still follow our ways. Maybe one of our men will kill the boy and allow him to reach Sovngarde. I could have killed him then, or had him killed but would he have been granted access to Shor's halls?" I asked.

It was a shallow answer, and one that most intelligent people would brush off. They both knew that the best answer was to kill the boy, leave him on the side of the road, and go on about our conquest. But we were still nords, and there was weight to what I said.

"It would not have been a glorious death." Igmund answered me, reaffirming what I was hinting at.

Loren said nothing, but he knew. He could have spoken out and called bullshit, but the Jarl wouldn't have appreciated it. And my earlier reasoning for the men still held true. One boy wouldn't make a difference in the battle.

"Two days."

* * *

"Today is the day."

I clasped my hand in the Jarls, and returned his infectious smile.

"Today is the day." I repeated back to him. The Jarl then started to ride over to where his men were waiting on him. I turned to Loren and repeated the same action to the man.

"You know the plan, I'll meet you in the middle of the city." Private Loren said before turning and hopping on his horse and heading towards the eastern road. I did the same and after a quick ride through the woods, I was met with three groups of around three hundred and thirty men give or take. The road only fit about fifty men wide.

I hopped off of my horse and moved to the front of the first line of my soldiers. They parted so that I could get through. When I reached the front of the line, I heard a shout to my right, and that was my cue to get my men ready because the Jarl was about to charge.

"For the Legion!" I yelled at my men, at the same time I gathered my magick and let out a pulse of 'courage'. They returned my chant with an enthusiastic yell. I had no idea how to properly pump up an army, so I let magick make up for everything.

"Forward march!" I yelled out, and I moved forward as a slow jog to set the pace.

I had yet to draw my sword, which might seem dumb to some people, but I was going to use the opportunity presented to me. Today I would make myself a legend, and that started with being the first person in the battle.

As I moved I started to step on countless arrows, which had been fired at us this morning as a warning from the Forsworn archers.

I heard the sound of a horn from my right, and the sound of seventeen hundred men yelling as they ran forward.

_Igmund attacks. _I thought to myself. _We should meet little resistance as they react to him. _

My eyes scanned the sky waiting for arrows to start heading my direction. Instead, I heard the sounds of impact as the nords of Markarth and the Forsworn met in battle. I picked up the pace a little bit.

I saw arrows in the sky, but they weren't heading towards my direction, instead they were moving to my right, down the center road at the Jarl. Directly in front of me, I saw nothing but a bend that we were about to approach. I had yet to see a single Forsworn warrior, but I knew that right around this corner is when we would meet resistance.

I was correct, because just as I turned the corner I was met with a newly constructed palisade that blocked our path. On top of it, about ten men with arrows nocked and drawn in their bows stood waiting for me. Before they could loose the arrows, I stopped running and I summoned my magicka and made my will known.

"Shields!" I yelled to the men.

Red light coalesced as my red dragonscale shield ward appeared in front of me about ten feet tall and five feet wide, plenty big to cover my form. The arrows bounced off of my magickal shield, and I dropped the magick quickly.

A glowing and twisting red flame appeared in my right hand before they could get another arrow in their bow. I aimed at what looked like a gate, and fired. The ball of fire flew at the gate and hit right in the middle of it. The wall shook as the fireball exploded in every direction. The gate stood the first, but I immediately sent another fireball just as my men caught up to me and moved towards the palisade.

The gate blew open and there were shouts from the archers on top of the palisade.

"Loose." I heard from behind me. The twang of about fifty bows sounded out and arrows flew over my head. Some thudded into the wall, where they stuck. Some flew over the men on the wall. But the volley had taken out three of their archers, and given us a little reprieve.

I ran forward at a full sprint towards the opening in the gate. There were two men retreating from the wall back towards the city. I ignored them as I passed the palisade and looked around. There were still five men standing on a platform drawing arrows in their bows and about to shoot down onto my men. So I jumped up on the smaller platform they used as a stepstool and drew my sword. Two men fell to the ground without their feet attached to their legs with one swing of my sword. Their screams stopped when I ended their life half a second later.

I jumped up on the final platform just as the other three men looked in my direction. The one closest to me fired the arrow he had prepared. A small nudge of telekinesis and the arrow flew into a tree behind me. The man fell to the ground without a head as I reached him. The one behind him approached with a sorry excuse of a sword in his hand. He swung and I parried before throwing him to the ground below.

One of my soldiers ended his life with a quick jab of his sword just as I stabbed the last archer in the chest after a dodge of his swing. I wasted no time in hopping down off of the platform now that the palisade was cleared. My men were still marching and the first row of them had just passed into the clearing between the palisade and the city.

I took a good look at it as I got to the front of the lines again. They had added a new addition to the city in the month and a half since the initial reports we received from our spies, a wall. But unlike the palisade we had just taken, there was no gate.

_They meant to funnel us and control the fighting. Too bad that plays right into our strengths. _I thought as I noticed the wall.

I stopped, and so did the men behind me. I pointed to the open hole in the wall with my sword. Forsworn soldiers appeared, summoned from the two archers that fled from earlier, and poured out of the wall in front of us.

"There is our victory, men!" I yelled. I grabbed a significant portion of my magick, and sent it out to my men with a burst of 'Courage'.

"Take it!" I said.

The Forsworn warriors kept funneling out of the city and started running towards me. At least a hundred men sprinted down the fifty yards to our position almost immediately. My men passed me to get in front of me and protect me from their charge and then stopped at my command.

"Shield wall!"

My men's formation tightened as they prepared for the impact and set their feet. One lone Forsworn warrior was faster than the rest of his companions and reached the wall. He made a leap over the first line of men, where he took a shield to the head. He fell to the ground where a man from the second line moved forward and ended his life with a quick thrust of his sword.

"Hold!" I said with another burst of 'Courage' as the rest of the Forsworn hit the shield wall.

There was a mighty crash, and the sound of metal on metal rang out. I looked over the shoulders of my men, and saw a few on the front line fall. Their spot was immediately replaced by another man and sealed up the wall.

_We held. _I thought with happiness at the success of my men.

"Hold!" I repeated, and another wave of Forsworn crashed into us, but with less force. My men had yet to start to actively try to kill the forsworn. For now, they held the shield wall as men tried to break them up and get into the back lines. We didn't let them.

After a moment, when I knew that we had control of the wall. I started the true fight.

"Push!" I yelled.

The men in front of me lowered themselves and together they let out a roar as they beat the forsworn off of their shields. Immediately after that, bodies started falling as my men started thrusting their swords at the enemy.

We moved up twenty feet in the first push before I stopped us.

"Hold!" I commanded.

I stepped over the body of a Forsworn and one of my own men. I sent up a quick prayer and grabbed the soldier's shield and threw it on my arm. Another wave of Forsworn hit the shield wall. Once again, I waited for my men to recover before barking out an order.

"Push!" I yelled.

My world became that for the next twenty minutes. The Forsworn charged, the shield wall held, and we pushed up closer to the city. I noticed the men in front of me start to become tired. Sword thrust missed their mark, and feet slipped as legs gave out.

I started to worry about what that could mean for my men and started making plans for having the fresh men behind me step up and take their place, but the field between the palisade and the city wall didn't have a lot of room for the maneuver. I didn't need to worry.

A horn blew behind the Forsworn warriors who were throwing themselves at death and they reacted immediately by turning around and running back into the city. My men moved to pursue but I stopped them.

"Halt!" I commanded before turning around. "Second line, advance! First fall behind!"

The men moved to obey me and soon, I had fresh new troops ready to advance in and take the city. I took a moment to nod at every man who passed me to get to the back line and muttered words of encouragement and praise.

When the maneuver was complete, I took a deep breath before gripping the shield on my arm and moved to the front line where I took up the lead position on the line.

"March!" I said and set the pace.

The men met my pace easily as we moved into the city. As we entered, I noticed that for all of the improvements and preparations that the Forsworn had made to the walls and gates, they had neglected everything else and they didn't bother to change the layout of the roads. I knew that all I had to do was march straight along this same road and I would meet the center of the city. So that's what I did.

I saw more Forsworn running away from us, so I sped up a little bit but my eyes scanned between the wooden huts to check for an ambush. I didn't want to fall right into a trap. I highly doubted it, considering most of the Forsworn force was probably busy with the Jarl still but I wasn't taking any chances. We didn't meet any more resistance for at least another quarter of a mile. At that point, the sounds of the real fight became louder and louder.

We turned another corner in the road and being at the head of the soldiers, I saw the fight first. It was an all out melee, there was absolutely no order.

I smiled a little as my nordic blood flowed through my veins. I pointed my sword at the fighting and sent a massive burst of magicka towards my men in the form of 'courage'.

"Charge!"

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A/N: Boom!

Finally I get to update this story, I'm enjoying it a lot.

Next chapter we'll finish up the battle!

Tell me what you think in the reviews!


	10. Act I: Chapter 10

Hello everyone,

Fanfic is going crazy again. My reviews on the last chapter of Voleur D'âme aren't showing up on the website. I'm having to go to my email to view them. Are there any quick fixes you guys know?

Also, the ad in the middle of the page thing, what's up with that? Isn't that the most annoying thing in the world? I love this site, and everything it's done for me, but that ad placement is the worst. Only fix I've been able to do is click the x at the top right hand corner of the ad, and then report for ad covering content. Then it'll go away for a few days, and then I'll have to rinse and repeat. Once again, and fixes y'all know that don't include third-party software? I want the site to get ad revenue so it can stay up, but in the middle of the page? Come on….

Anyway, thanks for all the love everyone, on to the chapter.

Follow me on instagram at wtmcdonaldauthor!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

"Charge!"

I led the charge with a roar and made sure I stayed ahead of my men. The charge was a predetermined plan we had made for this specific battle, and possibly battles in the future also. The idea behind it was simple, we needed to close the distance. Already the Jarl and his forces had been fighting against superior numbers for a while.

We knew that we would be behind on the big battle by a little, and there wasn't much we could do about it. What we could do, is try and get there a little faster, while also drawing a bunch of attention to ourselves away from the nords of Markarth. That is why when I was about twenty yards from impacting the line of the Forsworn, who were now looking my direction and prepared for the charge, I skidded to a halt.

I dropped down into a stance that I had beat into my mens head and bared my shield towards my enemy.

"Shield wall!" I yelled to my charging men.

My men copied my actions and stopped suddenly, before falling into place beside me on the shield wall. Slowly but surely we formed a very intimidating wall on the road. I sheathed my sword, and kept my right hand free for the coming altercation.

When I didn't hear any more of my men gathering behind me, I began marching towards the Forsworn line. Slowly but surely, more and more of them had come to engage the enemy on their flank. This was something I didn't mind, in fact, I wanted it. The more men we pulled off of the Jarl, the better this would go.

The Forsworn formed into their own little make-shift shield wall, although there were gaps that were too wide, and they moved out of sync. The one advantage some of them had, were the spears. Not every man held one, but each one could disrupt our line a little bit. I didn't spend too much time on it, I couldn't, considering they gave up on the line and were now charging.

The fastest of the Forsworn ran directly towards me. I mentally applauded him for trying to cut the head of the snake off and defeat my men. It was not meant to be.

Just before he reached me, he planted and angled his spear to reach over my shield and pierce my skull. My right hand rose and with it, so did my magick. I grabbed the spear with telekinesis, broke it in two, and shoved it back through his chest. We locked eyes for a second before he died, and I could see the surprise on his face.

Then the rest of them hit the shield wall. "Brace!" I yelled.

It was difficult, no doubt. But I had leverage. The man behind me, supported my back foot, so that I could plant in the dirt and hold ground. He also had his shield on my back, lightly applying support, just as planned. If anyone were to get through, then the second line would immediately fall back slightly to deal with it, but no one did.

I braced myself and also molded my magicka again. A rotating ball of fire appeared in my hand again.

"Push!" I said.

With a yell of exertion, I shoved the two men on my shield back a bit. With the new space, I moved my shield and let the ball of fire in my hand go.

Limbs flew as the fire ball went into their line and exploded. Then I moved forward and drew my sword again. The shield wall thrust their swords as one with me, and men died by the fifties each time.

I sent a burst of 'Courage' at my men, as we continued to push forward. There would be no careful advancement like we did to breach the city. No, we would march forward consistently, keeping them on their back foot, massacring them.

And that's exactly what happened. I didn't cast any more destruction spells, as I needed to let my magicka recover a little bit. I did, however, send consistent pulses of 'Courage' towards my men, and even a few 'Fear' towards the Forsworn.

The combination of the two spells kept my men in high spirits, and theirs in panic. I had no way of verifying, but during that twenty minute initial engagement, I guess that around two hundred Forsworn fell to our blades.

Then there was a tap on my shoulder. I, and the men next to me, turned sideways and my men poured past me. I stayed in that position, until I was in the very back lines of my army. I dropped the shield on my arm, finding it useless at this point. The men were on auto-pilot and would need very little input from me.

A horn, some two hundred yards away sounded out, and I knew it was Loren and the other half of my men showing up on the other side of the city's center.

"We're almost there men!" I yelled as I sent out another burst of 'Courage'.

The men let out a 'Ha!' in confirmation and kept pushing forward, leaving bodies in their wake. I stayed in the back lines and gave orders to keep them in line and on task. The battle seemed to drag on after that.

Maybe it was just because of the hyper-awareness of adrenaline that made time simultaneously speed up and slow down. Every moment stretched on, and yet sooner than I realized, we had fought our way to the 'center' of the city.

I split my men up, sending half to meet Loren, and the other half to trap the bulk of the Forsworn army between us and the Jarl. Progress went slower then, because I wanted to be cautious. I had less of a back line to depend on.

Private Loren had none of these reservations. Even if he was a seasoned Legionnaire, he was still a nord. The men he commanded charged with him and split off into smaller fights, ignoring the shield wall except a handful of times. My anger peaked, as I saw too many of my men fall because of his lack of care.

While I had suffered some losses, it had to be under a hundred men total, out of close to a thousand to start. Loren looked like he had lost around half. It was unacceptable, and sloppy. When we met up with him, my anger got the best of me.

Loren cut a man down in front of him, and moved to swing at me, before he noticed my legion colors. A grand smile split his face as he saw me.

"Hadvar, a glorious battle!" Loren exclaimed.

I sent him a murderous look, and ignored him. "Formations!" I yelled, and for the first time in a while, I sent a burst of 'Fear' at my own men. I wanted them to know how fucked they were. I didn't care that it was their commanding officers fault, all I knew was that too many of my men were missing.

The men snapped into marching formation quickly, and awaited orders. "Back line!" I said, letting them know that they would be reserves for the rest of the battle.

Loren looked at me with a hint of confusion, and anger. "Not a word!" I told my superior with a point of my finger in his face. I left no room for argument even if it was extremely disrespectful.

"To the Jarl!" I said, as my men finished up the Forsworn on the ground.

My lines turned around at my command and I moved to the front, ignoring Loren's glare and angry walk. He followed me. I started our pace with a jog, and soon I came upon the men that I had left in my anger.

"Relieve them!" I told my men with the point of my finger.

The width of the main road we were now fighting on was about twice as long, so the men were stretched a little more thinly along the road and needed to switch out more often. There were also way more Forsworn to worry about, as we had reached deep into the main force.

_We're only halfway there. _I thought as I noticed the alarming amount of Forsworn still alive. The Jarl had been losing his battle, badly.

Luckily, the Forsworn noticed my force marching on them, and most of their numbers attacked my shield wall. I lost more men in the following fight than I was comfortable with. In fact, when I noticed just how many were falling, I joined the front lines again.

Men fell to my blade and my magic. Exploding balls of fire thinned out their numbers with each charge, and still, I lost men. The next hour was full of death, and I would never forget it.

Random cuts appeared on my body, only to be healed quickly. My magic was in a state of constant use, although my reserves had grown so much that I never ran out, although I did get low a few times. 'Courage', 'Fear', 'Fireball', and restoration decimated my enemies.

By the time the battle was winding down, I had stopped focusing on making my legend, and focused on saving my men and ending the battle quickly. Gone was the thought of glory by battle, now I could only think about getting to the end.

One moment, I looked up to see fifty men in front of me. Then after cutting one down, I looked up and saw that there were no more enemies for me to fight. My gambeson felt unnaturally heavy.

I looked down to see that it was soaked all the way through, and yet it hadn't begun raining. The smell is what alerted me to the truth. It was blood. It was caked onto my form, covering me. And almost none of it was my own.

And then, Jarl Igmund was in front of me.

"Hadvar!" The Jarl said. Like Loren, he wore a smile on his face. Although his was different. It was a tired smile, one of triumph, but exhaustion.

"Jarl." I breathed out. Only then did I realize that I was heaving air into my lungs, and I could barely hold onto my sword. I sheathed it, to relieve myself of the burden and looked around. Where before, our total force was just under four thousand, now I estimated our forces were close to a third of that, and my men were the overwhelming majority. I had only barely made it to the Jarl.

"The day is ours!" Jarl Igmund roared.

_Fuck, not yet it isn't. _I thought as I realized we had only made it into the heart of the city. The Forsworn could be assembling the reserves as we celebrated. The Jarl's proclamation sprung me into action. I moved back towards the middle of the city. I walked quickly, because I knew I couldn't jog in my current exhaustion. I passed by our remaining men along the way.

Most were on the ground, resting, but some stood with the support of their shields. They saw me pass, and moved to stand. I raised a hand to all of them, telling them to rest. They had earned it.

The half of my men I had let Loren command did not rest, they knew better. They stood exactly where I had commanded them. They stood with their backs towards me, in formation, guarding our flank from the city's center. I felt a bit of pride at their discipline, even if I was still pissed at them and Loren.

They parted as I moved through them towards the front line. When I breached it, what I saw, relieved me.

A single elderly woman stood in the middle of the city's center holding a long staff. On the end of that staff hung a white flag, the universal sign of surrender.

I turned to my men, and outstretched my arms. I didn't say any words, all I did was let out a single guttural roar.

The men who faced me did the same, and the city was drowned in our cry of triumph.

* * *

I woke to sunlight hitting my eyelids.

I shifted on the uncomfortable cot, and my muscles protested at the movement. I groaned at how sore my entire body was. The groan triggered the headache pounding in my skull. I checked my magicka reserves and found that they had finally refilled in the night.

I summoned it almost nonchalantly and molded it around my body, healing my aching muscles. I sighed in happiness at the feeling and sat up. It took me a moment to realize that I was still in Druadach Redoubt.

_One day since our 'victory'. _I thought as I got up.

My gambeson, freshly cleaned by one of my men, hung on a clothing rack off to the side. I moved toward it, and picked it up.

I brought it to my nose, to see if the smell from the battle still clung to it. It didn't, and for that I was thankful. There were a few feelings that ran through my mind as I thought about the battle.

Pride was the biggest emotion.

There was some guilt, for the men who wouldn't make it back to their families.

And finally anger at Private Loren.

_I thought Tullius sent me an equal. Instead, he sent me a burden. _I thought to myself.

I shook my head and decided that I could do nothing about it besides continue to outperform Loren in hopes of being noticed by Tullius once again. It felt wrong to be beneath the Private.

I quickly dressed myself, and made my way to the building we had confiscated from the Forsworn and turned into a mess hall. The night before, I ate and drank with my men in celebration. It felt like I would never get full, no matter how many chickens or steaks I ate. Eventually I moved to mead, that did the trick.

_Explains the headache. _I thought as I got a healthy portion of bacon, eggs, and a biscuit. I wolfed the food down quickly.

"Sir!" A legionnaire got my attention as he approached.

"The Jarl requests your presence in his tent." The man said.

I nodded to him, releasing him from his duty. The soldier ran off to do some other duty, and I started my path towards the Jarl. It seemed like every morning, I was summoned by the Jarl.

_Why wouldn't I be? I just handed him the loyalty of his city on a plate. _I thought as I reminisced on the past few months. _All he had to do was listen to the story of a random legionnaire one night when I showed up on his doorstep. _

The Jarl had, of course, confiscated the largest building in the city as his quarters. It was hard to miss. So were the three Forsworn women I saw leaving his tent just as I approached. There were no bruises on their skin, but I wasn't naive enough to think they were completely willing either.

_I can only control my own men. _I thought to myself.

After the surrender of the city, the nords had gone to plunder it, naturally. My men did not. In fact, I made it very clear the punishments that I would dish out, if any raping or pillaging was to occur.

Unfortunately, that did not extend to Jarl's men. I held no illusions that they didn't enjoy themselves to what the city had to offer them. Apparently, the Forsworn had thrown every man that could hold a sword, and a lot of women also, at us. I had no doubt that it would take them generations to recover from the loss. This meant that there was no protection against the nords lust after a battle.

And I was helpless to stop it.

I walked into the tent without announcing myself. Jarl Igmund, Private Loren, the elder from the day before, and Calcelmo stood around a table in the tent.

"Good, now we can begin." Igmund said with a smile as I walked in.

I did not react, nor did I greet anyone. Instead, I moved to my place at the table and waited for it to start.

"It is time for you to leave," The frail lady demanded.

_That's fair. _I thought about her statement.

"We will leave after we have taken what we want." Jarl Igmund said in a very serious tone of voice.

_What more do they have to give you? _I thought to myself.

"You have already taken everything." The old woman said. My respect for her went up when I heard her match the Jarl's tone.

Igmund brought his hand to his chin, in a thinking pose. After a moment, he turned to me and Loren.

"My men have had their fill, true. But what of the legion? They did not partake in the night's activities?" Jarl Igmund asked.

"My men want nothing more than to return to their homes and families. We can march tomorrow." I answered the Jarl, not giving Private Loren a chance to speak up.

Apparently, the Private took offense to that. "You speak for me now do you, boy?!" Loren said as he turned to me, bowing up a little bit.

The term 'boy' made all of my anger and resentment for the man in front of me flare up. I turned my body to him, but did not move my hands, which were still clasped behind my back. I clenched my jaw, trying to will the anger away. I was very close to risking it all.

Private Loren could see it in my eyes apparently. "Well? Do you ….boy?"

My mouth twitched as I used the term again, and although I tried my best to stop it, a smile crossed my face as I made my decision. It was a smile you make when you're so angry you could literally beat the person in front of you into oblivion, something I was seriously pondering.

"Yes, I speak for you. Because you are too incompetant to make the decision for yourself." I told him.

_Fuck, now I've done it. _The rational part of my mind thought.

_Fucking do something about it. _The dominant part of me thought.

And that is how I goaded my superior into swinging at me. Of course, I couldn't and wouldn't let it go unpunished.

I blocked his armor cladded fist with my forearm and wasted no time in targeting the weak part of his armor. My right leg snapped out and kicked his back leg. Loren dropped to one knee and was about to charge me when my fist connected with his jaw.

He didn't go down. Instead, he lowered his head and tackled me. I stayed on my feet for a little, but eventually we hit some furniture and fell to the ground. I tried to maneuver myself to be on top, but it turns out that he had some experience in wrestling and used his superior weight to get on top.

I caught one swing of his arm, and brought him close to where he didn't have enough room to swing. He didn't care, and led with his forehead. He headbutted me right in my nose, breaking it. He pulled back and made the noise one would make when they were about to spit a loogie at someone, and I lost it. My right hand snaked out and hit him in the throat, stopping the action that would have made me kill the man.

In his distraction, I expertly rolled him over. I wasted no time in pressing my advantage. My right elbow broke his nose, making us even and dazing him. Then I hit him again, this time on his orbital bone, which I was pretty sure broke too. His head went limp for a moment after it impacted the ground, but he came back too quickly.

His eyes were unfocused, but I didn't care. I raised another hand, to deal out more punishment. I didn't get the chance.

Magick filled the air of the tent and I was grabbed by an invisible force. I flew through the building and impacted a particularly large beam. My breath left my lungs at the impact and my back felt on the verge of cracking. The force held me there.

"Enough!" Calcelmo's voice cut through the room.

In my anger, I summoned my own magicka. Another force hit my forehead, breaking my concentration and causing my head to snap back on the beam.

"You're a hundred years too young! Calm down!" Calcelmo demanded.

This time, I obeyed, and looked around the room. Jarl Igmund looked bored, but the elderly woman looked at me with more than a hint of respect. Private Loren was still trying to figure out where he was at and what happened to him.

I took a few deep breaths and reigned in my raging anger. After a few moments, I nodded to Calcelmo.

"I'm done." I said simply.

I dropped to the ground, and my broken nose let out a sharp pain at the movement. I brought my hand up to it and once again summoned my magicka. I converted it into healing magick and reset it before fusing the bone back together and making sure my nasal passages were still good.

After that, I went over to Loren. Calcelmo raised a hand to me, threateningly.

"Just going to heal him." I told the old man.

I did as I told him. I reset Loren's nose, and fused the orbital bone back together. Luckily, he didn't have a concussion or anything having to deal with the brain. He just needed time to reorientate himself.

The Jarl made it apparent that he didn't care about anything that just happened.

"Now that is out of the way. We'll be gone at the end of the week."

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A/N: Boom, end of the battle, plus some. Lot's of action this chapter.

What did we think? What repercussions will there be for Hadvar?

Let's talk in the reviews.


	11. Act II: Chapter 1

Hello everyone,

Back with another chapter. We are so close to 1000 followers, I suspect we'll hit it by the end of the day or maybe tomorrow, it's ridiculous. You guys are awesome.

I'm excited for the next act in this story, for a reason you all will figure out pretty soon. Eleven chapters on act 1 isn't so bad, but could be a little longer. There are some stuff I could have gone into deeper detail about or built up more, but it was going sooooo slow I had to speed it up. Anyway, on to the chapter.

Authors note at the bottom. Follow me on instagram at wtmcdonaldauthor

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

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_Well, I should have expected this. _

I couldn't help but think that I didn't regret it, in fact, it was worth it. There is no better feeling than going toe to toe with another man and coming up victorious. Especially if that man is Private Loren, someone who is, admittedly, not as incompetant in leading men as I had accused him of being. The men listen to him, and respect him.

But….

The loose ropes on my wrist and my hearty meals throughout the few days I sat in confinement told me where their true loyalty lies. It didn't even feel like a punishment, considering I was allowed all of my possessions in the house that became my cell. All I did was read about and practice magick the whole time.

In fact, I perfected the spell that would get me through my current situation, 'Ironflesh'.

'Crack'

I felt a small pinch where the whip hit me, but almost no pain came from the blow. I smiled, and held the magic, as I realized that Loren would notice I was using magick to aid me.

I can imagine his face as he realized there was no grunt of pain, nor a line of split skin that would normally accompany someone getting lashes.

_That's right, fuck you, Loren. _I thought gleefully.

Now that I wasn't in a position of authority, I was able to notice how ….stiff it made me. It's understandable, considering I had men that looked up to me all the time. But I realized that I was having very little fun. And that was weird, being a nord.

Nords live a hard life, and we laugh in life's face to spite it, while getting piss drunk. The fight with Loren showed me a couple of things.

One, I probably shouldn't hit a superior officer again.

Two, I fucking loved it.

Three, I have gotten too uptight.

Maybe it was the stress of being severely underpowered for this world, combined with having almost no power. Now, even though I was under the threat of demotion or court martial, I felt better about my chances in the world.

After Calcelmo's lesson on manipulation magicka, I could see how to reach the higher levels of spells. It was just folding, bending, twisting my magicka in a way that would improve the spell and take it to the next level. Sure, I had to grow my reserves by a fuck ton, but that would happen with time.

'Crack'

A line of fire appeared on my back, and I almost grunted in pain but the surprise at the whip getting through ironflesh distracted me. I glanced back, and saw the glint of steel on the end of the whip.

_Fucker is using iron tips? _I thought, and came up with another plan. I twisted my magic and gave it a new purpose. _I guess the legion knows how to deal with magicians. _

Gasps rang out in the crowd as the wound on my back knit itself back together. I smiled as another lash hit my back. The wound was quickly healed.

Another lash, and I stubbornly didn't let a single sound escape my lips, I just focused on keeping ironflesh up, and healing the wounds on my back.

Another lash.

Heal.

Another lash.

Heal.

It went on for a very long time, way beyond my original sentence of twenty lashes. I wanted to shout at Loren about going back on his word, but then again, I was the one cheating with magick. He just wanted to make a point.

Luckily, Loren stopped before my magicka ran out. It was a good thing too, because without ironflesh to protect my back, those iron tips might kill me… or worse, paralyze me with the right shot.

My men ...no, soldiers that I recognized came and untied me from the post quickly after the last lash. I looked around, to see who all had come to watch my punishment. The crowd was rather large.

Loren stood at the appropriate distance, with the whip in his hand and smiling my direction. Jarl Igmund, and Calcelmo stood off to the side of him. Calcelmo had a broad smile on his face, no doubt laughing at my use of magick to thwart Loren's punishment. Igmund, however, was not amused at all. He looked at me judgingly.

I thought it funny, considering I was the man who handed him Markarth's future prosperity on a silver fucking platter. And that was before my men cut through the Forsworn's army and saved his bitch ass. Mentally, I moved his name in my shit list, until further notice.

Loren though, I gave him a parting gift to remember me by before they took me back to my 'cell'. The act made his face twist up in rage, making it worth it.

I winked at him.

* * *

"Maybe I shouldn't have winked at him."

"No, you should not have winked at him." Calcelmo said from his spot on top of his horse.

I walked beside him, leading my horse, but not being able to ride him. At least I could use it as a beast of burden, so that I didn't have to carry all of my things. Admittedly, I could handle it since they were only a few books, and some other random things, but still. I didn't want to carry it all the way back to Markarth.

"At least he did not demote you." Calcelmo commented.

"He would have, if he could have." I said. "I think."

Calcelmo scrunched his face up, thinking. "Surely Tullius wouldn't send him here, with the authority of promoting you, but not demoting you."

"Everything in the legion seems ass backwards to me. Wouldn't put it past him." I commented. "But he did strip me of command. I am Legate in name only."

Calcelmo hummed, not agreeing but not disagreeing either. "I think it would have been best to just take the beating. You probably made it worse by winning. Not only did you beat a superior officer half to death, you wounded a Nords pride."

"He got good men killed." I retorted. "And it felt damn good to feel his bones break."

Calcelmo sobered up a moment. "Yes, the casualties should not have been as high. He was negligent. The men do respect his ability to kill, however. Apparently, he is a berserk."

"They wouldn't respect him as much if they saw him lying in a pool of his own blood, like we did." I smirked. I was still riding the high that was me kicking his ass.

Calcelmo sighed in response. I grimaced, knowing how I must sound. _Guess it's time to move on from that. _

"What do you think will happen now?" I asked the old wizard. It was a question I asked myself all the time. I had no idea the far reaching consequences this would lead to.

Would I go back to Markarth, and lead a small section of the city guard? Now that I had led the entirety as a pseudo-captain, it felt hollow. And any Captain that filled the role, would have a much easier job at cleaning up the city than normal, considering the discipline that existed because of me.

_Flushed it down the drain, because I can't control my temper. _I thought to myself. _Still think it's worth it though. _

"I am not sure." Calcelmo answered. "But Tullius would be a fool to allow your talent to go to waste in Markarth."

"I think that is what I am afraid of." I said before I could stop myself. I could do nothing about what was to come for Skyrim in Markarth. Almost all of the main players were deeper in Skyrim. And with the shit that I'm in right now, it would be very easy for me to get blackballed from ever moving up in the Legion.

"I think you'll find out soon." Calcelmo said as his horse stopped.

I looked up to see what caused him to stop. There in the middle of the road, sitting on top of a massive, beautiful red colored horse, was probably the most politically powerful man in all of Skyrim.

General Tullius.

* * *

My first impression of the legendary General was that he was short. Despite that, he displayed a deadly aura of confidence and control. His grey/white hair was cut close to his head and he wore his unique set of imperial armor. The symbol of the empire was etched on the breastplate proudly.

His eyes were hawk-like and snapped from person to person, judgingly. I had no doubt that within the first few moments, he knew who I was along with the people around me.

He had apparently been waiting for us for a few days at the fork in the road. He had been privy to our plans the whole time so I wasn't that surprised that he knew where we would be.

Igmund immediately ordered everyone to make camp for the day, even though it was only mid-day, and we could make really good progress towards Markarth.

So I did as they said, anxiously waiting to get the final verdict on what my punishment would be from the head honcho himself. Eventually, I decided that the best way to distract my mind was to read and practice my magick. It didn't work very well. I could hardly concentrate, and the magicka kept slipping from me.

Eventually, there was a knock on the center wood of my tent. I opened it up, to see a fellow Legate, although it was not one I was familiar with.

_One of Tullius'? _I wondered.

"General Tullius requests your presence." The man said.

I stepped out of the tent, and stood up. I towered over the man, who I now knew was an imperial based on his height and accent. I stretched for a moment, then nodded to him to lead the way.

He led me through the maze that was an Imperial Legion's camp. We didn't have to walk far, considering my rank allowed me a fairly close position in the hierarchy. Although, my current situation did make me the black sheep of the Legion.

_Doesn't stop the men from saluting me whenever I walk by. _I thought as I saw a group of soldiers do that very thing, before going back to what they were doing.

"Your men respect you." The Legate leading me said.

I didn't think it was necessary to respond, so I didn't. I also didn't see the point, because we were approaching the large tent that symbolized the Jarl's residence.

_Honestly, assassin's wouldn't have any problem locating it. _I couldn't help but think.

An image of a black hand appeared in my mind, and I banished it, not willing to think about the Dark Brotherhood right now.

I moved into the tent, leaving the Legate at the front. I walked in to see the same set up that I had become familiar with over the past month and a half. The Jarl, Calcelmo, and Loren waited on my inside. This time, General Tullius and his second in command Legate Rikke occupied a section of the tent.

Their eyes turned to me as I entered and I stopped to salute the General.

"At ease, soldier." General Tullius said.

I moved forward then and came to stop in front of everyone, before falling into parade rest. I noticed that Loren was doing the same, now that his superiors were in the tent. Normally he would lounge around in our meetings if they became too lengthy. Some part of me wanted to break his nose again, although I would make sure I came out unscathed this time.

"You have been busy, Legate Hadvar." General Tullius said to begin. "Been with the Legion less than a year, and despite a brief stint in jail, you have risen through the ranks."

Tullius paused, and looked at me. His voice carried in the tent, despite it being obvious he hadn't raised his voice. It wasn't sweet like honey, but nor was it rough like the roar of a lion. I couldn't accurately describe it. All I knew was that there was weight behind his words, regardless of the context. In short, he sounded like a General.

"I have found myself in interesting situations, and have taken advantage of them." I said, deciding that I needed to actually speak to the man.

Tullius nodded, and looked at the ceiling of the tent. "A fair assessment." Tullius commented.

The General clapped his hands. "Well, you assaulted a superior officer. What do you have to say for yourself?"

"He swung first." I said simply. "I acted in self-defense."

General Tullius chuckled.

"You goaded me!" Loren roared out towards me.

Tullius' head snapped to him so fast, you would think a naked woman appeared out of nowhere. Loren fixed the angry expression on his face, and schooled it before looking out in front of him like he was supposed to.

_Yea bitch, your daddies here. Behave yourself. _

"He has a point, Legate." Tullius said.

I frowned as he said that, seeing tons of flaws in the argument.

"My men do not give me a lip very often, but it still happens, General. I do not attack them because of it. Nor do I have the right to." I retorted. "And calling someone incompetant because of their actions on a battlefield is not goading someone. In this case, it is fact."

General Tullius obviously didn't expect my answer to be so well formulated, but I had been thinking on this topic for a good while.

Legate Rikke straight up smiled. A nord woman smiled at what I said, before turning to Loren with a shit-eating grin on her face. It made me think they didn't get along too well. It also made me think that I was on the right track for my defense.

"Nor would I attack my men, outside of a few rare circumstances." General Tullius agreed before turning and staring at Loren also. "However, I am curious as to this fact of Loren's incompetence. I chose him for this operation myself."

"Have you received the casualty reports?" I asked the General.

"The Jarl lost over half of his forces. The Legion lost just north of six hundred men, an astounding victory over a superior force." General Tullius recited perfectly and immediately.

"And you know of my battle plan?" I asked him again.

"You proposed to split your force, and take the eastern and western roads." General Tullius answered me, once again perfectly.

"Good." I said seriously. "I lost just over one hundred men."

I didn't say anything else, I didn't need to. We were all educated men. Tullius could figure out that Loren had lost half of his force. And that was before we even encountered the main fighting.

General Tullius blinked a few times, and processed the information. Legate Rikke was no longer smiling. Instead, rage was on her face, and she paced around the room, staring at Loren.

"When I met with him in the middle of the city, his men were out of formation, fighting individual battles. He looked like a crazed animal, attacking everything in sight." I continued. "I had to take control of his forces, or fear losing the battle because of his negligence." I paused for a moment, letting it sink in.

"How is that anything but incompetence?" I asked.

I felt really good about my position, so I stayed put. I had successfully directed the conversation away from my misdeeds, to my accomplishments while also pointing out Loren's faults.

General Tullius didn't seem like the type of man that lost his temper very often, but I could almost see the steam pouring out of his ears. Rikke had no problem showing her fury towards the man.

"Go wait outside the tent." General Tullius said towards Loren.

Loren looked up at the man, red-faced. I wasn't sure if it was out of anger, or embarrassment at his actions being put on full display for his boss. He wanted to dispute the General's decision.

"Don't say a word." Tullius told the man.

Loren obeyed, and moved towards the entrance of the tent. He passed right by me on the way. We held each other's gaze the whole time. When he passed, he walked with his head up and with a cocky gait.

It really didn't matter. I was sure you could hear the conversation from the entrance, but it was symbolic. Like 'hey, you fucked up. And I want you to know you fucked up, go sit in the corner.'

The Jarl just watched on with an oddly serious look on his face. I wasn't sure if that was because he liked Loren, and disagreed with Tullius. Or if it was because of my reveal of Loren's actions. Either way, the look was one that normally didn't grace his face.

Calcelmo looked intrigued at the turn of events. We all fell into silence after that, as everyone took time to process the information. Tullius just stood there, staring down at the table in front of him. Rikke fingered the hilt of her sword, looking livid. I just waited, content with my defense of myself.

"Loren has proven himself capable of cleaning up cities of corruption." Tullius said suddenly. "There were always rumors of his ...excessive use of force. But the ends justified the means, in my mind. So I sent him here to prove himself capable of leading a large force, with a secondary investigation of what really happened in Markarth. I am man enough to admit when I am wrong, Legate. You have my apologies."

I should have just accepted, but I didn't. "Good men died because of him. Men that would have been an invaluable asset to the Legion." I retorted. "But I can't change what happened, and neither can you, General. I accept your apology."

_Now please for the love of Talos, don't demote me. _

"Agreed, Legate. Now, that information does not change the fact that you assaulted a superior officer." Tullius said.

I held in the groan that threatened to spill from my throat.

"For that reason, I hereby demote you to the rank of Imperial Battlemage." Tullius said, dropping a huge fucking bomb.

At first, I felt terror. Then after a moment, I really thought about it. Why would he do that? _Markarth has no use for an Imperial Battlemage. _I thought.

"It just so happens that I am in need of a competent mage." Tullius said after a moment.

_Oh, I understand. _I thought to myself as the implications hit me.

"You nords may claim suspicion towards the arcane, but Skyrim is hell bent on throwing me problems I can't solve without a mage." Tullius expanded. "You'll be coming with me to Solitude soldier, we leave tomorrow."

…_.What… _

I couldn't see my face, but if I could, I would see that my mouth was open and my eyes were wide.

_It's a demotion in name only. _I pondered. _And even that isn't really true. Battlemages stand outside the normal rankings. They are allowed a certain amount of autonomy. _

That thought train led me to what he said about Skyrim throwing him problems he can't solve without a mage.

_Just what have I got myself into? _I wondered.

On one hand, it's great. Solitude is the capital of Skyrim, and the seat of the current High King Torygg. I was getting thrown to the heart of Skyrim's politics. It was a brilliant move on Tullius' part.

On one hand, he definitely punished me. On the other, he gets me out of Markarth where he can use my talents in leading people and magick.

_It's perfect for me. _My mind supplied. _I couldn't do much tied to Markarth. As much as I'll miss my position, I needed this to happen. I can do so much more from Solitude. Plus, there is bound to be much more magickal knowledge there. _

I smiled, my mind made up.

"Thank you sir." I said towards the General.

General Tullius nodded towards me with a smile of his own. Legate Rikke barked out a laugh, and it triggered the rest of the room also. Calcelmo, Igmund, and Tullius all chuckled a little bit.

"Tullius, you devious bastard." Jarl Igmund commented from his seat. He took a deep drink out of his mug.

Calcelmo sent me a knowing smile. I could decipher what it meant. 'Lucky bastard.' General Tullius had, apparently, gotten tired of my presence because he barked out an order and turned away from me.

"Dismissed."

* * *

A/N: Boom.

So apparently I am getting too predictable. Everyone roasted me and said that since it's an SI, Hadvar will be getting a promotion.

Well, you're wrong! And right?

Got demoted, but it puts him in a similar position. It honestly reminds me of Orik from the Inheritance Cycle. When he disobeyed orders to save Eragon, and then got assigned as Eragon's bodyguard as punishment. Which put him in a fairly influential position. That was my motivation.

I think it makes sense for Tullius to make this decision too. But then again, i know what is going on in the background, and you guys don't. Maybe I should let y'all know soon…

Anyway, what do we think? Hadvar defied his lashings with Magick, making the punishment useless. And he got a new rank.

Let's talk about it in the reviews!


	12. Act II: Chapter 2

Hello Everyone,

I was worried about what y'all would think about Hadvar's new position. I honestly thought y'all would dislike it because he has been getting off easy in other situations. But, I am happy to say that the general consensus is that it was a very smart thing for Tullius to do, which means I wrote it correctly, happy face.

Who is ready to move to mars? Because this world is getting crazier and crazier.

Anyway, on to the chapter. Follow me on instagram at wtmcdonaldauthor.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

"Jarl Ulfric has challenged High King Torygg, in the old ways."

It was Rikke who revealed the information to me. I rode beside General Tullius and Legate Rikke, as we made our way down the main road towards Solitude. It had been a week and a half since we split off from Jarl Igmund, and the Markarth soldiers and we had been pushing our men hard to make it back in time.

The road was well maintained, by far the nicest I had ever seen in this universe. Which made sense, considering this was the capital, and the richest hold in Skyrim.

My heart dropped, as I realized I had run out of time to prepare. Torygg was about to be murdered, and Skyrim will be plunged into a civil war.

_Unless I can stop it. _I thought, trying to be optimistic.

"When?" I asked, trying not to be too upset. It was tradition, and Ulfric had every right to challenge him as a Jarl.

"The Jarl's will be notified soon. Runners should be reaching them soon, and they will travel to the capital to bear witness." Tullius answered, before continuing. "I told Igmund myself. He would have joined our party then, if he hadn't been away from Markarth for a month already."

"The city is in a very critical state right now." I said, agreeing with Igmund. "And the nobles will need to be put in check. No doubt, they have taken some liberties while we were busy. While the cat's away, the mice will play." I quoted.

"Very well put." Tullius said without looking in my direction. "But I fear that Skyrim is about to have bigger problems."

"Ulfric cannot be allowed to win." I said confidently.

Rikke's head snapped to me, and she couldn't help but respond. "We cannot interfere!" Rikke hissed towards me.

I was reminded why Tullius kept her around. She was, if rumors were to be believed, a fierce warrior, and an even fiercer nord. She kept to the old ways.

I weathered her gaze, as a nord man should. "Ulfric will plunge us into a civil war!" I responded. "That Skyrim, and the empire is not ready for."

Tullius actually turned to look at me after I said that, surprised at my stance on the issue.

"I was told you held the old ways." Tullius said probingly.

"I do. But I am not blind to the political state of the empire. And there was a lot of information to be found in Markarth on Ulfric Stormcloak." I lied to the man. I needed a way to explain my meta-knowledge of Ulfric Stormcloak. It seemed like as good of an excuse to reveal it as any.

Tullius hummed, but otherwise didn't react to the information. "I think it's time I brief you on what your duties will be." Tullius said, completely switching gears.

I perked up, curious. I had been waiting patiently since I was told of my new position of what exactly it was that I would be doing.

"I am a simple man." Tullius started. "With a simple skill set. I can lead men well, very well. I am a master tactician, with almost no peer in the legion." He paused, letting that sink it. I didn't know if he was just bragging or about to reveal something important.

"That is not enough. I have had to drag every bit of talent I have with a sword out of my body, and even then I am barely considered passable with a blade. That is why Legate Rikke is always by my side." Tullius explained. "Not only is she knowledgeable on nordic tradition, she is one of the best fighters in Skyrim."

I nodded, as my suspicions were confirmed.

"Neither of us have any magickal talent. And Skyrim's history is rooted in the arcane. Did you know that most people outside of Skyrim, think of the thu'um as a relic of the past? Most only know of it because of Tiber Septim's legend. I never considered the truth." Tullius continued.

"The language of the dragons, capable of being learned by any disciplined enough." Tullius paused once again. "Ulfric Stormcloak is immensely disciplined, it seems."

_You can say that again. _I thought, agreeing with the assessment.

It was weird to me, that the rest of the world considered the thu'um dead. Every child in Skyrim knows to fear it's capabilities. And everyone knows of the Greybeards at the Throat of the World. Most were tales told to children, but that didn't make them fake. Tiber Septim conquered the world with the thu'um.

_One could make an argument it was superior to magick, although I would doubt it. _I pondered.

"Some might say that we are glorified bodyguards." I told him, seeing through what he was telling me.

"Some would also kill for a position beside me, regardless of the title." Tullius responded.

Rikke and I chuckled at that. "I have a bit of a confession to make." I said. Tullius didn't tell me to continue, but he did wait for me to. "I tend to focus on the more subtle aspects of magick. I will not be commanding a storm of fire to do my bidding anytime soon. Nor will I summon monsters from the realm of the Daedra to wreak havoc on my enemies."

"What is it you can do, then?" Tullius asked.

"I can manipulate your emotions, without you knowing." I said as I sent a burst of 'fear' towards him and his horse, quickly followed by a 'calm'. The horses head whipped about for a moment before calming. Tullius' face didn't change, but his eyes did meet mine in surprise. No doubt, he felt the change in his emotions.

"I can create shield capable of blocking magickal and physical attacks." I continued as I manipulated the magicka in my body. My red dragon scale shield appeared in front of me, about the size of my horse and I. I have been very busy the past few weeks.

"I am, without a doubt, one of the most skilled healers on the planet." I said, although I didn't show them. I really couldn't without there being an injury near me.

"And I have some skill in telekinesis and fire spells." I finished, summing up my abilities.

"Do me a favor, Hadvar." Tullius said. "Never manipulate my emotions without me knowing." Although, his face didn't show it. I could tell that Tullius was a bit angry that I could do that.

"I only ever project positive emotions, such as 'courage' to my allies. My enemies ...well that is free reign as far as I'm concerned." I said, trying to placate him.

"When you look at this out of context, it doesn't seem very impressive. But when you take into account my position, it makes me an excellent commander of men, and a terrifying person to face one-on-one. My men will never break rank, because I do not let fear to cloud their judgement. And that cannot be said for whoever stands on the other side of the battlefield, because I can control them too." I stated, laying down my cards for him.

"What of your skills with a blade?" Tullius asked, eyeing the steel on my side.

I smirked. "I have yet to be bested." I said confidently while eyeing Rikke in the corner of my eye.

Even though she was still mad at us for disrespecting tradition, she appreciated the challenge and smirked my way. I knew we would be sparring soon.

We all fell into a silence after I finished. I knew Tullius was thinking on how best to use my skills, or maybe he was just trying to process everything. Eventually, he decided to continue telling me what my duties are.

"Your first task while we are in Solitude, is to train up the guard the same way you did in Markarth. Find competent people, and delegate. You won't have time to do it all yourself. When you aren't doing that, you will accompany me in my dealings with the High King and the Aldmeri Dominion. Do you have any issues with that, soldier?" Tullius asked.

"No sir." I answered the General.

"Good. Now, at any moment I might send you across Skyrim to do my bidding. Do you have a problem with that?" Tullius asked once again.

"No sir." I answered him once again.

"Good. Now you may be wondering what you gain from this particular arrangement." Tullius stated, and waited for me to answer.

I thought about it for a moment, but couldn't come up with a decent answer. "I bring glory to the Legion?" I asked lamely.

Tullius and Rikke laughed for a moment. "You're not wrong." Rikke joked.

"I am making you a symbol, Hadvar." Tullius revealed. "Ulfric has painted himself as some warrior of old come to save Skyrim from the empire, and now he seeks to claim the throne. I need someone on our side, to rival his legend."

"And how do you plan on doing that?" I asked, curious. It wasn't that far fetched. One could easily manipulate my deeds in Markarth as one of a hero, with a little exaggeration.

"You already have." Tullius answered, supremely confident. "The people of the Reach sing praise of your deeds already. Soon enough, word will spread to the other holds. With a little help and embellishing, you'll become the symbol I need."

A part of me was uncomfortable with the attention. The other part relished in it. Every nord grew up hearing tales of Talos, Ysgramor, and other nord heroes. All of us had once played the part in childhood games even. To actually have your name written in the history books, was ...well, it was incredible and there was no way I was saying no.

It wasn't my plan, ever really. I only wanted to do my part for Skyrim and her people. But after the 'merge', I knew I had to get more power, for the coming threats. Alduin, Civil War, Harkon, The First Dragonborn… I needed to be able to help out the Dragonborn, and mitigate the damage that these threats would bring. Never did I imagine I would be the symbol for the Legion, but if that was what it takes, then I'm game.

"And if that isn't enough incentive, I would remind you how financially beneficial it can be to be the General of an entire province's personal battlemage." Tullius added on.

I smiled at that last part. "That does help, yes." I answered. "Since you are being very upfront with everything, I will do the same."

"Torygg will die by Ulfric's hand." I said simply.

Tullius turned to me again, but he otherwise didn't visibly react to the information.

"How can you be so sure?" Tullius asked.

"There is nothing that says Ulfric can't use the thu'um in his challenge." I said truthfully. It was heavily implied that it was supposed to be a fair fight, but there was no such thing as fair.

Tullius turned to Legate Rikke when I said that. "Is that true?" Tullius asked her.

Rikke nodded her head. "It wouldn't be right! If Ulfric did that, he would lose a lot of support." She responded.

"But will he?" Tullius asked her.

Rikke's silence told him everything he needed to know.

* * *

_Solitude is massive. _

The capital of Skyrim dwarfed Markarth. I had always assumed Markarth was one of the larger holds. Now I was questioning that assumption.

_Well, to be fair, half of Markarth is hidden in the mountains. _I thought as I looked at the massive walls of the city.

The road that led into the city was so wide, that all of the merchants and travelers had no problem venturing into the city without having to cramp together. Mountains towered around the city, but not actually close enough for it to be considered mountainous. The natural arch it was built on was another wonder.

The Karth River flowed peacefully underneath the natural arch, taking ships further down the massive river, or leading them out into the sea of ghosts. The port was absolutely massive also. Hundreds of ships came and went throughout the day, bringing foreign spices and clothing to the city. A lot bore the symbol of the Legion, as they ferried troops and supplies to the capital.

I took it all in with a smile, happy to see another beautiful place in my life. I had always been more of a mountain man, but Solitude had mountains in the background, along with being close to the beaches of North Skyrim.

"Impressive, isn't it?" Tullius said from his place beside me. We had already dropped the horses off at the Imperial Stable, about a mile outside of the city and were not continuing into the city with the men behind us marching. There they would be fed, and be allowed to roam free in the pastures until we had need of them again.

The crowds parted for us, as we made for Castle Dour. Tullius and I walked at the head. Rikke stood behind us, making sure that the men were marching properly and following orders. She was not an easy commander to have.

"It is." I said as I looked around at the crowd. My red gambeson armor that Calcelmo gifted me had a quick patching during one night of our camping. Tullius claimed that the people needed to know of my magickal prowess so he had the battlemage symbol stitched on. It was a silver dragon spewing silver flames.

_I'll get a blacksmith to make it out of actual silver, and then I'll secure it. Much better looking. _I thought about the new pendant.

"It's huge. What is the population?" I wondered aloud.

"Near half a million." Tullius said.

My jaw dropped and I looked around. The walls did seem to stretch on and on, and I could barely see the Blue Palace in the distance. Castle Dour was actually fairly close to the entrance gate to the city, which I thought was a little backwards.

"Why are we stationed so close to the wall, instead of the High King?" I asked Tullius as we approached the Imperial castle.

"The city guard near the palace is the best in all of Skyrim. All of them are natives of Skyrim. Even though Torygg is a supporter of the Legion, he will not be seen relying on us too much." Tullius explained. I actually tipped my hat to Torygg for that.

"Smart man." I commented.

"He is, surprisingly enough." Tullius commented.

We walked into the main courtyard of the castle inside of a city. Tullius had only left the minimum Imperial soldiers to upkeep the Castle. Since they weren't part of the city guard, they had much less duties during the day. This also meant that there were much less men in the castle than there were in the other cities around Skyrim. In fact, Tullius only had about one thousand men with him as his personal guard. I knew that number would soon grow.

"Come, let me show you to your quarters." Tullius commanded. That took me by surprise. I had thought him above showing me where I would be staying, but apparently I was wrong.

I followed him and we passed through the courtyard. At the end of the courtyard, a long building extended from the main towers. Tullius pointed at it. "That is the mess hall, capable of feeding five thousand at one time." He said.

Next to it were smaller buildings that rose higher into the air, maybe four stories, just below the walls to the castle. "That is the barracks. It's where the men stay. It can house about the same number." Tullius said.

If you were wondering how big these buildings were, they were fucking massive. I had no other way to describe it.

"Another three thousand can be held in the four corner towers." Tullius continued as he pointed out the four smaller of the towers.

"That." Tullius said, pointing to the tallest tower. "Is the Emperor's Tower. It can hold him and his personal guard. We keep it clean and ready for his visit. I never expect him to set foot inside of it."

That was the tower I knew would be one of the nicest ever furnished. No doubt, it had only the best materials inside of it.

"Is that where I will be staying." I joked with Tullius. He looked at me out of the corner of his eye but didn't bother to laugh or even knock me down a peg.

"You will be staying at the Wizards Tower." Tullius said, pointing to the second largest tower off by itself. "Reserved for the Emperor's Battlemage. I think you'll like what's inside. Sybille, the High King's court wizard, stocked it so as to impress the current Battlemage at any time."

I became giddy with excitement. _Finally, unhindered ability to learn magick? _I thought.

Don't get me wrong, I was grateful with all that Calcelmo had done for me. But he was a very strict wizard and would only let me advance when he said so. Most of the upper level destruction spells were still off-limits when I left. I was very very happy at this development.

Tullius opened the door and let me enter first. Torches lit, activated by enchantment and filled the tower with light. The bottom floor was one of the most finely furnished rooms I had been in in this life, and that's saying something. Art decorated the walls, mahogany desks sat beside finely carved chairs, and bear skins littered the floor.

I found the stairs and started upwards. The second floor was the master bedroom. The bed was made for royalty. The frame was also mahogany. The bed looked like it was made of cotton or some heavenly substance. I was used to the cots of the legion, so anything was better than that. The sheets were silk, and more bear skin laid on top of the comforter. A finely made trunk sat at the end of the bed and there was a desk on the other side of the room. More paintings, and fine decorations littered the room.

Tullius' steps behind me told me he was following me. He looked into the room and nodded. "It'll do." He said.

I nearly fell over. _Is that not good enough for you Tullius? _

I continued up the stairs to the third floor. It was nothing special, just a kitchen and some beds. Probably made for the servants or something like that.

The fourth floor was an apothecary on one half. There were empty potion bottles in crates stacked up on the side, free for use it seemed. It was actually the first time I had seen a potion bottle in this life. Normally they were reserved for the upper class. And apparently there weren't a lot of potions that were well known, potion masters were rare, and held their recipes close to their heart. The most common potion was disinfectant and small wound healing potions.

It didn't help that there were merchants that would mix red dye in a foul tasting solution and pawn it off as a potion. This led to people only wanting to buy from legit potion masters, and they were the opposite of cheap. Potion masters were probably, besides enchanters, the most profitable of all the wizarding arts.

_Maybe I should experiment. _I thought for a moment as I looked at the potion making set up. There seemed to be everything there for experimentation. I set it to the back of my mind to try.

On the other side of the room sat an enchanting table. There was nothing else. It seemed as if it was just a pretty table that glowed and looked comfortable to hunch over to enchant on. I had witnessed first hand that one did not need an enchanting table to actually enchant something. Ariella had shown that in spectacular fashion with my sword.

I continued up the stairs to inspect the next floor, and was not disappointed. The fifth floor was the top of the tower and the ceiling ended in a spire. The spire actually had a type of glass at the top of it, allowing the sun to stream in and heat the room, like a greenhouse. It made sense, because in the middle of the floor sat an assortment of magickal plants growing out of the stone floor. It was amazing. The fluorescent colored plants seemed enticing, and I even noticed some bugs fluttering about on them although they paid me no mind.

"I never understood these things." Tullius said as he appeared on the top floor.

"Me either." I responded. "But I'd like to figure it out."

"You do that!" Tullius said as he clapped a hand on my back. "Meet me at the Palace in the morning. Break your fast before, we have a busy morning."

"Where are you staying? I'll walk with you up there." I said.

Tullius laughed at me, and I realized why he said the battlemages bedroom was good enough. The bastards next sentence told me he was a spoiled brat.

"I stay at the palace."

* * *

A/N: Yo!

Not much happened this chapter but we did get a lot of information about Hadvar's position and what his duties will be. Things will begin to heat up soon with the other bomb I dropped.

Torygg vs Ulfric soon!

How was the description of Solitude? Was close to a half a million people too much? Do you guys think I overdid it? What about Castle Dour?

Let's talk in the reviews!


	13. Act II: Chapter 3

Hello everyone,

I think I may have overdone it with the population of Solitude, but honestly, I'm keeping it. I think I'll try to address some of the big concerns that were brought up in the reviews over the time Hadvar spends in the city. This story is getting a lot of love, guys. Thank you for the support, everyone!

Onto the chapter! Authors note at the bottom.

Follow me on instagram at wtmcdonaldauthor!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

_Beautiful. _

I stood on the balcony that I had discovered at the very top of the Wizards Tower, my new home. From the ground, it would be hard to spot, with the way it blended into the stone of the tower. No doubt, it was intentional.

The sun was starting to creep its way over the horizon, and I relished in the opportunity to watch my first true sunrise in this world.

What I did not relish in, was the fact that I saw no soldiers beneath me in the yard, marching. Nor did I see signs of any movement in Castle Dour.

_Time to fix that shit real fast. _I thought as I turned around and made my way down the stairs of my tower.

I walked quickly and with purpose. I was not surprised to find no one in the mess hall, but I will give credit to the chef. He had apparently been working on breakfast at the appropriate time, as he was supposed to. I nodded to him, and he returned the gesture before going back to his business.

There was a servant that sat a plate down on the table for me. No doubt, Tullius made sure they knew I was here, and to be treated as his Battlemage. I didn't sit down, though. My anger was stirring.

"Is it to your liking, sir?" A teenage looking girl said as she waited for me to sit.

"Where do the Legate's stay?" I asked, ignoring her question.

"They have their own quarters, on a separate floor from the men." The chef said without looking up from his work.

"Show me." I said, with no room for argument.

"Yes, sir." The girl said and started walking. I followed, ready to piss off some men early in the morning. I could have sworn I saw a smirk on the chef's face as I passed by him.

The chef had many duties. First and foremost was to cook and have meals ready for the men at the appropriate times. But he also stood at the top of the hierarchy in the castle's staff. Meaning he was responsible for order and cleanliness in the castle. He hired, and fired, his staff at his discretion. Those of us in charge, didn't care how he did his job as long as he was effective. My initial impression led me to believe he was competent enough. I thanked Talos for one less part of the Legion to clean up.

We took many turns and stairs in the castle, but I kept a mental picture in my head to map it out and make sure I could navigate it in the future. Soon enough, we entered a floor, and she gestured to the hallway with multiple rooms in it.

I wasted no time in making myself known.

"Get the fuck up!" I yelled as I walked down the hallway. Every door I passed, I kicked the door open.

"On your fucking feet!" I continued to yell other demands as I made it down the hallway.

Five Legate's jumped to their feet and hurriedly got dressed, as if they were still recruits. I got no back talk, or objections. They must have thought me General Tullius or something because their faces had a look of terror.

I went back to the front of the hallway and waited on them to get ready. It took way longer than it should have. The first man to get dressed and ready was a dark elf with red hair and a much larger build than most of his kind. I made a note to get to know his name, he seemed the most competent, but that wasn't saying much so far.

When everyone stood in front of their door, at attention, I spoke.

"There will be no breakfast today, you lazy pieces of shit. Get your men and meet me on the grounds." I commanded, and then I turned around.

I nodded to the girl, who hurriedly turned and went back in the direction of the mess hall. I sat down and found a new plate of warm food. I mentally noted the increasing competence of the chef and made a note to talk to him also.

I scarfed my food down, and rushed out into the fields. I didn't want anyone to beat me there, I needed the men to see me out there before them. I found the largest clearing that would hold all the men in formation and waited.

The sun was fully in the sky by the time all the men were in formation in front of me, then I waited some more. I was already late for my meeting with Tullius and likely wouldn't make it to the palace until noon at least.

Finally, after a good amount of time, I spoke to the men.

"Legate's step forward." I commanded. The five men from before made themselves known.

"Let me make one thing clear. I will be the last fucking person to wake in this fucking castle!" I yelled. "By the time that sun clears the horizon, the men better be fed and in this field, do I make myself clear?!" I asked the legate's in front of me.

"Sir, yes, sir!" All five answered me in unison.

"Good!" I said as I moved past those five, they didn't move when I passed them. "Men do you understand?!"

"Sir, yes, sir!" The men in front of me chanted.

"Good! Now it seems I have incompetant Legates. I will not allow incompetence. So either they get their shit together, or I demote them. Do you know what that means?" I asked rhetorically.

Wisely, no one answered.

"That is an opportunity for you!" I said to the men in formation. "If you prove yourself competent, I will reward you with the position. I do not care about how long you have been in the Legion. What I care about is fucking competance! From now on, promotions will be based on merit, and merit only! Am I clear?!"

"Yes, sir!" Everyone chanted towards me.

"Excellent!" I said as I walked back in front of the legate's. "Now, you will not be eating breakfast because of your tardiness. Instead, you will march until the sun reaches its peak. You are allowed to break for water four times between now and then, use it wisely."

I walked away, to where a horse waited for me near the entrance of Castle Dour, courtesy of General Tullius. I didn't hear any marching behind me, so I stopped and turned around.

"What the fuck are you waiting for?!"

Feet started to hit the ground then.

* * *

The Blue Palace earned its name.

The roof, and tops of the spires were died a brilliant blue that gleamed in the sunlight just the right way. It's towers rose higher than those of Castle Dour. It's design seemed simple. It was designed as a very large square. It's design greatly reminded me of French and Italian renaissance buildings. Except I knew this one was much much bigger.

I rode up to the guards that formed a blockade on the road that led into the palace. I stopped when they raised their hand. I dismounted when they said, and they checked my credentials on a piece of paper. After getting confirmation, one massive nord sent for a servant to guide me to where I was needed. I tried to memorize the route the boy took me on, but soon became confused at the amount of stairs and turns we made. Eventually I just focused on taking in the beauty of the place.

"You are late."

General Tullius was not a happy man, when I met with him in the hallway right outside the High King's office. Apparently he had been attending meetings without me.

"I had punishments to assign. It will not happen again, that I promise." I said to him confidently and stood behind him. The door opened in front of Tullius, from the inside.

A nord man, outfitted with the standard guard outfit stood in front of us. He had the symbol of Haafingar painted on the breast plate. A close look told me that everything he wore was made out of ebony, and silk. I shouldn't have been surprised, but I was. Such extravagance was almost unneeded in my opinion.

_I wonder if it is all of the guard, or just the King's personal bodyguards. _I pondered as the man stepped aside after seeing us and let us into the room.

My eyes landed on the High King immediately.

The High King was a handsome man, with dark brown hair coming down to his shoulders. His hair was held out of his face by his gold and ruby circlet on his brow. His beard was neatly trimmed. His fingers were adorned with more jewelry, and he wore clothes of the absolute finest quality.

The room shit on the quality of my quarters in Castle Dour. Everything was perfect.

"Torygg, this is Hadvar. Hero of Markarth." Tullius introduced me to the most powerful man in Skyrim, and one of the most powerful on the continent. He walked right in, as if he owned the place.

I moved in the room and sank to a knee, as tradition dictated, and bowed my head. "It's an honor, my king." I said.

"The honor is mine, young Hadvar." The King's deep but smooth voice said . "You may stand."

I did as he said, and fell into parade rest in front of him.

"You have done me a service, Hadvar. For that, I thank you." Torygg said.

"I did it for Skyrim, my King." I answered, trying to sound every bit of a nord.

Tullius didn't react to my boot licking of the King. But I got the feeling that he approved of my attitude towards him. Already, I was beginning to become comfortable with Tullius. Using his name in private, instead of rank. In public, I would be an obedient soldier.

"Good answer." Torygg said.

Then without warning, he started laughing before turning to Tullius. "Is he always this stiff, Tullius."

Tullius and the nord guards in the room all let out a chuckle at my expense.

"Give him some time." Tullius said. "He is a nord, through and through."

I smiled, finding the humor in it. Who could blame me though? I just met the man that rules over Skyrim. How often does someone get to meet their King? Almost never is the appropriate answer.

"Good." Torygg said. "Well, we should get to it then. How was Elenwen?" Torygg asked.

_Tullius met with Elenwen? As in, the main Thalmor Ambassador in Skyrim? _I thought as the name was brought up.

"She just returned from The College." Tullius said. "Apparently, one of her agents went rogue, and the new Archmage had to put him down."

That piqued my interest. _Is the College of Winterhold storyline complete? _

"Ah, yes. I was sad to hear of Savos Aren's passing. A new Archmage has been chosen, then?" Torygg asked, curiously.

"Don't play coy, Torygg." Tullius said. "We both know that you knew the same day."

Torygg smiled at Tullius for being caught red-handed. "Yes I did. Ariella has proven extremely effective. First that business with Potema, and now this. That one has a bright future in front of her."

My brain short circuited.

_Ariella finished 'The Wolf Queen Awakened' AND 'The College Of Winterhold' problems?! _I realized as I recognized the name that Torygg mentioned.

I wanted to interrupt and ask questions, but my position did not allow me to interfere with the conversation unless prompted. And I didn't want to make a bad impression on my first day with the High King.

"Agreed." Tullius answered. "Apparently, she will be here for the challenge." Tullius said.

I smiled, without thinking about it. _Well I'll just wait to ask her about it, then. _I thought about the knowledge of her coming to Solitude.

"Something to add, Hadvar?" Torygg asked, apparently seeing my smile.

I dropped it quickly, realized I had interrupted them. "Apologies, my King." I said.

"No, no, that won't do. Speak." Torygg said, before waiting.

_Fine. _"Ariella traveled through Markarth, on the way to the College. We became fast friends. My sword is an enchantment of her make, actually." I said, quickly explaining my relationship with the powerful magician.

Tullius turned to me, surprised at the information. Torygg didn't let his surprise be hidden either, and looked at me curiously.

"Although, I thought she was just going to act as the Master Enchanter of the College." I said, to alleviate the stares.

"Yes, well she got caught up in quite the conspiracy and came out on top. Much like yourself, actually." Torygg said as he tilted his head. "The resemblance in your stories are actually staggering."

"Skyrim is changing, Torygg." Tullius said. "What of the new jarl in Whiterun?" Tullius asked, apparently a common topic between him and Torygg.

_New Jarl in Whiterun?! _

At this point, my brain was becoming overstimulated.

_How much happened while I was in Markarth? _I raged in my head.

I knew that Markarth was far removed from the rest of Skyrim, and so news of the other holds were slow to reach its walls but this was getting ridiculous.

"Ralof has stated his intentions of honoring traditions, and will be here. He plans to make the pledge before the challenge." Torygg answered.

I actually stumbled at 'Ralof' and had to grab on to the back of Tullius' chair not to fall over. All eyes turned to me.

_It has to be another Ralof. _I reasoned. No way my hometown friend had found himself as Jarl of Whiterun.

"Hadvar?" Tullius asked me as he turned around.

"Apologies. I did not know that Balgruuf no longer ruled." I admitted as I fell back into parade rest.

_Yea, it's not my hometown friend. _I decided, for my mental health's sake.

"You need to catch him up on the state of Skyrim, Tullius." Torygg stated, ignoring my reactions from then on out.

"I thought he would have been privy to the information during his time as Captain of Markarth." Tullius said apologetically. "He will be informed later. We can continue. Control yourself Hadvar."

I clenched my jaw at the embarrassing way Tullius spoke to me, but I knew that I deserved it. There were too many bombs thrown on me in a short amount of time. My future knowledge was going to shit with this new information.

I barely paid attention to the rest of the conversation after that, only listening during important parts. I was too busy trying to come to terms with the information revealed.

_What would cause Balgruuf to no longer be Jarl? And how would Ralof get into a position to take over? _I wondered as they continued to talk about issues that didn't interest me.

Soon enough, Tullius stood and we left Torygg.

* * *

We entered Tullius' office, and the first thing he did was go straight to the whiskey table. He grabbed the glass bottle and uncorked it before pouring into the two glasses sitting on the table. He handed me one as he sat down, done with meetings for the day.

I sniffed the whiskey, curious as to if it held up to my other worlds standards.

_Still smells like whiskey. _I decided as I downed the glass. It had been a long day. I didn't even think about the fact that whiskey probably shouldn't exist yet. I just chalked it up to bullshit this universe has decided to throw my way.

The burn lasted for a moment and I relished in the feeling. Tullius just watched me before taking a sip of his glass, savoring it.

"What do you know of the events of the last four months?" Tullius asked.

I didn't know anything about the last four months, so I told him the truth. "I was extremely preoccupied with Markarth. So next to nothing. From the conversation earlier, I know that Ariella is the new Archmage, and Ralof is the new Jarl in Whiterun. What I don't know is how, or why." I answered.

Tullius nodded and took another sip. "The College started investigating some ruins near Winterhold. But they reached a door they couldn't get through. Ariella blew hole through it, apparently earning her the ire of her peers for destroying a relic of Skyrim. But what they found there, they won't tell anyone. It caused the ambassador sent with Ariella to go insane and kill the Arch Mage, Savos Aren, along with about twenty of the students there. During this, Ariella had apparently been embarrassing her fellow masters in their own disciplines and rose to the top. She killed the ambassador a few weeks ago. Maybe around the same time, you won your battle at Druadach." Tullius explained quickly.

It was obviously a summary of the many reports he read about the subject, but it worked for me. I knew more about the College than he ever could, no doubt. I didn't blame her for keeping the 'Eye of Magnus' secret, I would have done the same thing.

"Ok, Torygg was right. Not so different from my own story in Markarth." I said, agreeing with the High King.

"Now that I think about it, so is Ralof's." Tullius said with a thoughtful look.

"From the reports I received, he was a man, close to death, who showed up on the companions doorstep. After being nursed back to health, he began rising through their ranks. He worked his way into what they call 'the inner circle' just as the Silver Hand began their campaign against the Companions." Tullius explained.

It sounded just like the normal Companions storyline, but with Ralof in the center instead of the Dragonborn.

"They claimed that the Companions are werewolves, and worshippers of Hircine." Tullius continued.

_Partially true. _I couldn't help but think.

"A lot of things happened within a short time, then." Tullius said. "Five hundred of The Silver Hand snuck into Dragonsreach, through a passage from the bottom of the mountain that runs underneath the city. And this is where the story gets interesting." Tullius explained and moved forward with his elbows on the table.

"They claimed Balgruuf was a Companion in his youth, and that he was also a werewolf." Tullius revealed. "Massacred seventy percent of the population in Dragonsreach. The Jarl's family, gone in a night, along with important members of the noble families there. In the end, Ralof led the Companions in killing every single Silver Hand member. Everyone watching the battle saw him wielding Wuuthrad…" Tullius paused and looked for my reaction then.

I did react, with my eyes widening. That came from my childhood. Wuuthrad was probably the most legendary weapon in nordic history, ever. Even if I knew that you could reforge and wield it in the game, I was still surprised.

"...fighting like 'Tiber Septim' himself. Apparently you nords care about history a lot. His possession of Wuuthrad and heroic deeds during the battle landed him the position of Jarl, and nobody opposed him." Tullius finished up the story, and then finished his glass of whiskey.

"Now you know. Legendary tales are popping up all over the place, Hadvar. Ulfric, Ralof, Ariella, and now you. The Legion was falling by the wayside before you fell into my lap, and I'll be damned if I don't take advantage of it." Tullius said, piecing it all together.

That actually made more sense to me, and it also confused the fuck out of me. _Are all the other main quest lines going to be completed soon? Giving rise to more heroes? What does this mean on the greater threats of civil war and Alduin? _I pondered before another question hit me.

"Ralof, is he from Riverwood?" I asked, curious if it was my old friend.

"Yes, how did you know?" Tullius asked with a frown.

"He is my age, and we grew up together. We were inseparable, until our maturity. Both of us were prodigious fighters. Me with blades, and him with hammers and blunt objects." I explained. "He chose to seek out Ulfric. Worshiped the ground at his feet because of his outspoken nature against the Thalmor. Both mine and his parents fought in the war, and died for it. Ralof resented the elves since then. So do I, but I'm smart enough to know that the Legion is the only option."

Tullius hung on to my every word, and his usually calm composer cracked with my reveal. He sat there for a moment trying to process it.

"I guess that explains your reaction during the meeting." Tullius said as he ran a hand through his hair. "He's proving himself extremely capable as Jarl also." Tullius added at the end.

I snorted. "Ralof has a way about him. But I wouldn't have guessed it." I commented.

"Why is that?" Tullius asked.

"I was always the smarter one. He never seemed the type." I said with a shrug, not going into too much detail. The end of our friendship was still a sore spot for me. Both of us could have handled it better.

"Well, you'll get a chance to see your old friend soon. Everyone important will be present for the challenge." Tullius said, dismissively.

I caught the dismissal quickly and turned around to leave, the day had been a long one, and I needed rest. Tullius didn't let me leave just yet though and barked out orders for me.

"You're free the next two days. I expect a weekly report on the men."

* * *

A/N: Boom!

Big reveals this chapter! Ariella is Archmage, Ralof is Jarl, and Hadvar has to whip the legion into shape. More of the same, and yet everything is progressing. Soon, the Challenge will happen.

What do we think about it? I am heavily implying a lot of things this chapter, can anyone guess what it is?

Let's talk in the reviews!


	14. Act II: Chapter 4

Hello everyone,

We passed the one-thousand mark sometime yesterday morning, and I couldn't be happier. Thank you all for the support! We're already the fifth most popular story in this fandom (if you don't count cross-overs), which is crazy to think about but I love it. Now we just have to pull this whole thing off.

Conquer is also just as successful. Voleur D'âme is approaching its end, and has done way better than I ever imagined. I'm really feeling the love right now guys. I'm sorry y'all have to hear me be sappy every couple of chapters, but it's your fault, so deal with it.

Anyway, on to the chapter!

Follow me on instagram at wtmcdonaldauthor!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

When I stepped out on the balcony of the Wizards Tower, for the second time, the men were trickling out of the mess hall and into the yard for the morning march.

I smiled, content that I had made my point yesterday and looked to the horizon. Once again, the sun was peeking its head over the skyline and bathing the world in light.

_I can get used to this. _I thought as I watched the orange rays wash over the clouds.

I stood there for a bit longer, memorizing the amazing view before I turned around and headed downstairs.

I walked out into the yard, proud of the fact that all of the men were in formation and waiting on me. The five legate's were standing in front of their companies. Nobody shifted, or moved until I said so, although I did see their eyes follow me the whole time.

I nodded my head as I took in the sight of them. "Good! Very good, men. I'm glad we don't repeat mistakes." I told them and moved closer.

"Legate's! Introduce yourselves." I commanded once I got in the spot at the head of the men.

The dark elf from the other morning stepped forward first, he was not shy apparently.

"Enden." The dark elf said clearly before stepping back and letting the others step up. His voice was deep and rough, but carried across the clearing easily.

A nord man stepped forward. "Jorard." The man said, with a surprisingly high voice for a man of six-feet four inches. I nodded to him and he stepped back.

Another nord man was next. "Hulimir!" This nord roared, and the veins in his neck popped out. He was obviously a brute, and I loved it. I smiled at him, and the men behind him snickered a little bit.

An imperial was next, and the voice that came out of him belonged on a bard, I could tell. "Telralinus." The imperial said. It felt like honey dripped onto my ears, and I knew that this man was the embodiment of the 'speech' skill in the game.

That didn't stop me from fucking with him a little though. "Tel-what the fuck did you say?" I mocked him and his name.

The men started rolling. Everyone was thinking the same thing, because most of us were nords and we loved to make fun of imperials. But I couldn't let that become a standard, so I decided to put a stop to it.

I sent a glare to the men behind him. "What the fuck are you laughing at?!" I roared and moved forward to the brute that introduced himself as Hulimir, the one laughing the most.

I got right in his face and stared straight at him. He, and the rest of the men, wisely shut up and didn't answer my question. After a few moments I stepped away and went back to my position. Before I could turn around, the same imperial started to speak.

"Tel, sir. My name is Tel." He said, and he had a shit-eating grin on his face. He could see the humor in all of this, it seemed.

_This one, knows how to turn the crowd to his favor. _I thought as I looked at him.

"Tel, it is then." I said with a nod. Mentally, I decided that I like Enden, the dark elf, and Tel, the imperial the most. "Next."

Another imperial man stepped forward, except he was built like a nord. _Wait, is he a nord? _I thought as I squinted my eyes, trying to determine his race. I stopped, realizing that I really didn't give a fuck. _Either he is useful, or he isn't. _

"Dec." The man said with a grin.

_Probably got another ridiculous name like Decimus or some shit like that. _I thought as he stepped back into the line. _Another smart one, though. _I thought as the man held his head up high, waiting on orders.

"It's nice to meet you all." I said simply. "My name is Hadvar, and I am General Tullius' new Battlemage. But to you, I might as well be Akatosh!" I introduced myself.

I would have said Talos, but I didn't want to risk any Thalmor agents getting wind of my saying that. It was best if I looked like the obedient Imperial Battlemage, and not the dumb nord. Regardless of how I felt about it, I couldn't risk my position right now.

"Now that introductions are over! We…" I said and I pointed to the legates in front of me. "...are going to teach you all how to properly march!" I said, moving forward.

I walked to the man closest behind the Legate's and grabbed his shield. He let it go without complaint, and I looped my arm through the strap in the shield and moved back to the Legate's who had yet to move.

"On me." I commanded as I dropped into the proper stance. Into the same stance I had used during the Battle of Druadach. The five Legate's fell in beside me, and I was happy to note that, besides a few things, they were in proper formation.

"When we train our marching, we will do it as if we are advancing on an enemy, until I say otherwise!" I said as I turned my head around to the men behind me.

"Forward!"

* * *

My eyes scanned the men, from my position on an elevated platform. The platform was made for this specific reason, so that I could watch the men and see individual movements if I wanted to.

I looked up to see that the sun was nearing its peak in the sky. _Now is as good a time as any. _I thought as I looked back to the men. I channeled a bit of magic to my throat, trying a new trick I had read about the night before in the tower.

"Stop!" My voice boomed off of the walls of the tower, and reached the men below. Everyone froze, and even a few men reached to their ears for a moment it was so loud.

_It's effective, but let's turn that down a bit. _I thought as I decreased the magic in my throat.

"Legates, on me. Men, break for lunch, and then back in the yard." I commanded at a much better level tone.

Most of the men did as I said, and started walking to the mess hall. But there were some that dropped onto their ass for a moment, exhausted. I turned my head, recognizing that I was pushing them hard. Maybe too hard. So I allowed it, considering it was the first week.

The Legate's did as I asked and started moving up to the platform quickly. Most of them were breathing heavily, but that didn't look near as exhausted as the others. Hulimir was the most out of shape. He was more built for strength than endurance, but I would mold him as I saw fit.

Soon, they came to stand before me in parade rest, and then I started talking.

"You may rest." I said, partially as a test, and partially out of a reward for their hard work. Enden, Tel, and Dec did not rest, they stayed still at attention. The other two either dropped to the ground to sit, or rested on the railing. I noted how everyone acted and filed it in my mind.

"This is your new life." I told them as I looked out onto the yard. "In the morning, you will march. Break at mid-day. The amount of rest you allow the men in the mornings is up to you. After lunch, you will have them drill with the sword and spear. Focus on the basics, thrusts from marching position mainly. Give them two hours of sunlight for their free time. Any man that gets extra practice in during their free time, let me know who they are." I told them.

The schedule wasn't any different than what I had established in Markarth, except I wouldn't have the time to oversee everything. Tullius told me to delegate, and that was what I was doing. It was time to see who was a good leader, and who wasn't. The reason I wanted to know who worked more at it during their free time was to see who had the drive to be Legate, if the five men in front of me were deemed insufficient.

None of the men said anything. I nodded at them, satisfied that they knew their orders.

"Dismissed."

* * *

I stood on the top floor of the Wizards Tower.

My belly was full, but my appetite for the magic in front of me wasn't. One thing that I had missed during my initial tour of the Wizards Tower, was the hidden alcoves that had bookshelves on every wall.

The top floor of the tower held the most books. In the middle of the room, was the same structure that grew all kinds of magickal plants for potions. A walkway surrounded it. If you took the walkway to the right, from the stairs, then you would come across an alcove with three bookshelves on each wall. These held books on potioneering. Theory, basic recipes, how to grow the plants yourself, harvesting, etc.

If you continue along the path, you find the second alcove. Once again there were three bookshelves. Each bookshelf was dedicated to the main elements of destruction that magicians like to use. Ice, Fire, and lightning. Although the shelf with lightning was much more sparse than the others.

The path would eventually wrap around to the third alcove, that held the most books per bookshelf. These three bookshelves held Illusion, Restoration, and Alteration books. This was where I wanted to be for the day. Eventually I would venture into the other sections, but I wanted to see what else my schools could surprise me with. They were already proving to be so effective with my position, why change it up?

I began skimming the section on Alteration, and almost immediately found something that caught my eye.

The cover was red, and in a very good condition. The letters were gold and eloquently spelled 'Mages Downfall'. I grabbed it and moved down the shelves looking for some more books. Some caught my eye, but none more than the one in my hand. I decided that I could always come back to the bookshelf and grab some later so I moved down the path a little further to the fourth alcove.

There sat a desk, filled with empty notebooks, quills, and inkwells that apparently didn't allow the ink to dry. Nobody had been in the Tower in a while, I knew that for sure, so the fact that the ink was still good was impressive.

I sat down in the comfortable chair that was provided and laid the book out in front of me.

'_Mages Downfall _

_Master Magician Velara.' _

I hummed and decided to get straight into it. I opened the first page and came upon an introduction into the book, as was normal for wizarding tomes in this world.

'_The sack of the Summerset Isles should not have happened. And yet it did. Why?_

_My entire purpose for this book is dedicated to this question. The simplest answer is to blame Tiber Septim, and the power of his thu'um. But the answer must be deeper than that. Every Altmer is raised to believe they are superior to the other races, because of our affinity to the arcane. Our magicka is greater upon birth, and can grow greater, than the other races of Nirn. Our armies should have had little problem against the forces of man, regardless of the number differences in the armies. _

_Except, the conquerors men fought with a ferocity that seemed otherworldly. As if they were all fueled by a single minded hatred for our race. _

_Tiber Septim is credited with single handedly wiping out the grandmasters of our race. The wisest, and most powerful of us all. Our leaders, gone in a night. _

_Six of the most powerful beings to ever walk this plane. One nord, albeit barely, decimated the foremost experts of magick. How?_

_No one will ever truly know. However, I believe it is a very simple answer. _

_Physicality.'_

I scrunched my brows, not knowing where the book was going. Nor did I understand why it was in the Alteration section of the Tower. I turned the page, interested in seeing where it was going.

'_A magician's dominance in any altercation has always depended on a single factor: distance. _

_From twenty feet, it is a trivial matter to close the distance on a magician and have your way with them. It is hard for all but the most disciplined to cast a spell while dodging a sword. _

_Any longer than twenty feet, and it gets exponentially harder to defeat a magician with physicality. _

_This is why lycanthropes pose such a threat to most magicians. Hircine's blessing gives them many physical advantages even outside of their transformation, where these blessings are multiplied. Simply put, they are faster and stronger than any normal mer or man. They can close distance faster than any other alive. Even greater than vampires. Many have theorized that Ysgramor's success against the Snow Elves was due to his devotion to Hircine. Our most ancient texts describe magic as slipping around his form as he barreled his way through his foes. _

_Why then, is Tiber Septim considered to be the most physically gifted warrior to ever live, when Ysgramor was so dominating. _

_The answer is once again simple: The Thu'um, the dragonspeak, call it what you wish. I believe he was capable of boosting his physical prowess with it, beyond what is possible for lycanthropes. _

_What does it matter? You may ask. _

_To answer this, I must tell you my background in magick.'_

I flipped the page, thoroughly invested in the book now that Velara had expanded upon the book a little more.

'_Restoration is where I have made my success in life. I have studied the anatomy of all the races of Nirn for nearly three-hundred years. Altmer nobles pay for my services, above all others and I command nearly a hundred apprentices at any given time._

_But there is one more aspect of magic that I have more than a passing interest in: Alteration. _

_I have always been fascinated by spells like ironflesh, oakflesh, and the following alterations of the physical body. So now to answer the question of why does this matter? _

_I have developed what I believe to be the magickal equivalent of Tiber Septim's physicality. I call it 'Dragonflesh'._

_But a more appropriate name would be 'Mages Downfall.''_

I frowned at the reveal of what the book was about. 'Dragonhide' was a spell in the games that reduced physical damage by eighty percent, and while that would be an amazing spell in this world, it seemed to fall short of what I was expecting.

I was kind of expecting something that would counter the opponents increase of physicality. Which, by the way, I had no idea that being a werewolf granted you any physical abilities in this world. All it seemed to do was give you access to a transformation in the games, and force you into the Hunting Grounds when you died. Nothing mentioned an increase in speed and strength.

_Unless, 'Dragonflesh' in this world is nothing like the 'Dragonhide' in the games… _I thought as I flipped the page again.

'_Before I get into the 'how' of the spell, I should warn the reader that it requires supreme knowledge of Restoration and Alteration. Even a decent amount of magickal theory should be known before attempting. _

_This is also very taxing on one's Magicka during the beginning stages of learning it. Although, the more you practice with it, the more efficient you will get. _

_Complete mastery of the spell will cause a couple of universal outcomes. The users physical strength and speed will increase to levels equal to the legends mentioned earlier. But more importantly, magick will slide off of the user, like the stories of dragons barreling through magic._

_The levels of strength and speed will depend on the user's knowledge of anatomy and efficiency with the spell. In the beginning, all of these effects will be very minimal. My only advice is to keep practicing. _

_While I stated that an advanced knowledge of Alteration is required, I did not mean in the category of Ironflesh or Oakflesh. No, that would only hinder you. To clarify, I meant that your ability to cast an effective ward should be unmatched by others. _

_My personal notes and techniques on how to perfect your wards will be on the following pages. _

_I have many books on Restoration one should consider reading before attempting the spell. There will be a list of these books on one of the following pages. _

_I would point you to the common, but controversial, book 'Magickal Theory and Techniques of Casting.' for growing your reserves. The techniques in this book have long since been considered the most efficient. _

_Finally, the actual spell will be on the last page. If these prerequisites are met, you will find that casting the spell will be much easier than expected.' _

I set down the book, and my hands went to my head where a headache was forming at the requirement for even attempting the technique.

_It's like this spell was made for me. _I thought as I read the requirements again. Everything was something I was already working on.

_But if it's true, and it'll put me on the level of Tiber Septim and Ysgramor physically, then I have to perfect it. Especially if the Thalmor decide that the Treaty isn't enough for them and attack again. _I thought as I pondered the information in the book.

I picked the book up, and heard the sound of falling paper. I looked down to see that a note had fallen out of the back of the book and was resting on the table. I picked it up without hesitation and opened it.

It was a simple letter.

'_Dear current Battlemage to the current Emperor, _

_I hope you like this gem. There are only a couple of copies still in existence. A simple investigation will reveal that my friend Velara went missing a long time ago, as did some of her closest apprentices. This book never reached the magickal community. _

_It is easy to decipher why. The name will tell you everything. The Thalmor don't particularly like it when one of their own gives the world a spell to defeat ninety-nine percent of magicians. Take it, if you wish. I have my own copies. _

_Sybille Stentor, Court Wizard of Solitude'_

That information floored me. _The Thalmor killed Velara for creating this spell? _I thought as I tried to process the information.

But it made perfect sense. The name of the book was 'Mages Downfall' for a reason. The Thalmor, still recovering from the damage that Tiber Septim caused to their race wouldn't risk anyone knowing this information.

No doubt, Velara just wanted to create an answer to the man that had caused so much destruction to their race. But the people in power realized the danger that it could potentially provide to the race, and got rid of her and the spell.

_And Sybille just left this laying in the Wizards Tower? _I raged as the implications hit me. _Anyone could have walked in here and taken this. _

My mind was going a thousand miles a minute, thinking about the book that I had just stumbled on. Then another traitorous thought hit me.

_Ralof is supposed to be looked at like Ysgramor and the heroes of old. _I thought as the information in the book got applied to the state of the world around me. _And if he really is a werewolf, then I would be dumb not to assume he is just as physically capable as what Velara revealed. _

_Especially if he is on Ulfric's side after the Challenge. That would put us on opposite sides of the war. And then the Dragonborn has to choose sides also. _I reasoned with myself as I thought about all of the threats in the future.

_Tiber Septim's physicality sounds a lot like Dragon Aspect, or maybe Whirlwind Sprint. _I thought as I tried to decipher what it was that made him so physical.

I continued to think about the revelations that the book had shown me. If everything was true, then there were about to be some absolute monsters in the world. Ariella, and Ralof were already there apparently.

I was ready to become one of those monsters.

* * *

A/N: Boom!

So we got some more filler, but it was very meaningful filler. Some more very very important information about the future came up. Ralof, is most likely already a monster. Ariella, is most likely already a monster. The Dragonborn is almost guaranteed to become a monster when he pops up. Hadvar has a long way to go. It seems like the odds keep stacking up against him huh?

What do we think? Let's talk about it in the reviews!


	15. Act II: Chapter 5

Hello everyone,

Sorry we missed an update the last two weeks, a combination of Fathers Day, vacation, and me finishing up Voleur D'âme is to blame. But we finished my second story on this site! Very bittersweet.

I think I'll move this story to updating every Saturday instead of Monday. My schedule changed around a little bit on me at work, so I'm trying to adapt with it. What do we think about that?

Anyway, let's get to the chapter.

Follow me on instagram at wtmcdonaldauthor!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

"I see you have made yourself at home."

My eyes snapped open as I heard the voice in my room. My hand grasped the hilt of my sword that leaned against my bed. I drew it smoothly and jumped out of bed already swinging it where I heard the voice.

A hand grasped my wrist, and a leg kicked my leg that had all of my weight on it.

I fell back on the bed, and my other hand moved to continue my attack on the person in my room.

Golden-orange-yellow eyes peered into me behind an otherworldly beautiful face.

"If I wanted to kill you, you would be dead." The owner of quite possibly the most beautiful eyes on the planet said.

The woman's voice was the most seductive I had ever heard. Even the way her lips moved, promised unimaginable pleasure.

I felt my magicka rise in my body, in response to the subtle Illusion magick she was casting on me. The lust and desire in my body disappeared immediately, but her features didn't disappear. In fact, her lips smirked as she felt our magicka clash against each other.

I was helpless as I felt her magicka _scan _my own in a way I had never felt before.

And then her hand was off of my wrist and the woman backed away from me, out of reach of my sword. Her magicka retreated from my own, apparently done with whatever the fuck she was doing to me.

I stood up, fucking livid. Not really about the magicka, but rather about the fact that I was helpless to the woman in front of me. I hate that feeling.

"Sybille Stentor." She introduced herself, as if none of the events of the past minute had just happened.

I just stared at her, and contemplated all of the ways I wanted to murder her. In the end, I decided that I might not be capable of the deed, and forced myself to calm down. The whole time, she stared at me with those bright, captivating eyes, waiting.

"Hadvar." I introduced eventually.

She smiled at me, seductively. I couldn't tell if it was intentional, or just her natural smile. Her eyes flashed to my lower body for a split second.

_Oh that's right, I'm naked. _I thought as I realized what she was getting at.

I nodded and turned away from her to sheath my sword before getting dressed.

She waited patiently, and her eyes roamed my form the whole time. If I was a normal Nord, I would have propositioned her or teased her for it. But I could tell that it wasn't a lustful stare, but instead a calculating one. Like she was learning more and more about me from the way I moved and the scars on my body.

I let her do as she wished and focused on the task at hand. I was used to dressing quickly, because of my position in this world, so I was done quickly.

"Would it be too much to ask for you to knock next time?" I asked the woman as I belted my sword on my waist.

Her head turned, and she smirked at me once again. _Is everything she does, seductive? _

"You didn't have fun?" Sybille asked.

"Absolutely not." I told her.

It was then that I realized who I was talking to. She had introduced herself earlier, but the information didn't really click in my mind because of the adrenaline in my veins. It only just hit me that she was the court wizard of Solitude, and had been for a really long time. Her eyes told me of the reason for that.

_Vampire. _I thought as I looked at her. I didn't hide my gaze, as I didn't see the need to be polite considering her actions.

She wore exquisite dark blue mage robes. Somehow they hid her curves, but also told me that the body underneath them would be worth killing for. Her hood was not over her head, and revealed pale blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail. Her cheekbones were high, and sharp with perfect skin pulled over them. Her jaw was sharp, and delicate at the same time. Her nose sat in the middle of her face, perfectly placed and designed.

All in all, her beauty rivaled Ariella's. Where Ariella's beauty screamed natural, warm and blessed, Sybille's promised pleasure, but had a deadly aura behind it.

_Nothing like the games._ I thought as I drank her form in.

"I thought I would meet the new Battlemage Tullius has been bragging about." Sybille said while completely ignoring my request of knocking. "I am not disappointed." She added with another smile that cut through my defenses for a moment.

"That wasn't a very good first showing." I told her, ignoring her approval of me.

"Don't take it so hard, Hadvar. You were impressive." Sybille said and if it was possible, her smile got even wider.

I refused to blush, as I realized the innuendo.

"For one who just started his path as a magician, you are progressing rapidly." Sybille continued.

My eyebrows rose, questioningly.

"Magicka tells many stories, love, if you know how to listen." Sybille answered my unasked question.

_Are all vampires this sexual? _I wondered.

"That was very intrusive." I told her, talking about the magickal scan she had used on my and also her invasion of privacy in general.

"Yes, it is. But I have my reasoning." Sybille answered me while moving to my bed and flopping down on it. "I know that you discovered 'Mages Downfall'. That tome is not one I will just allow to roam around unhindered. I had to make a decision."

_Ah, so she didn't just leave it in the tower for anyone to take. Must have some sort of enchantment to notify her when it's moved or something. _I deduced.

"And what is your conclusion?" I asked her, curious as to what her scan told her about me.

Her head tilted again, and I moved over to a chair in the room before sitting down. "My conclusion…" Sybille said, as if she was surprised at my word choice.

"...is that you are another impossibility." She finished.

My heart dropped. _Does she know of my transmigration? _I panicked.

"What do you mean?" I asked, trying to keep the panic out of my voice.

Sybille sat up on the bed, and locked eyes with me. "Nephew of a blacksmith, turned Battlemage with absolutely no formal training, and yet your magic is deep and refined when it should be shallow and unimpressive. You are an impossibility, Hadvar."

My heart calmed down a little when she said that, as I realized she was speaking on my improvements with magic. That actually made some sense. It was getting harder and harder to grow my reserves with the same methods I had been using over the past few months because of how much magicka I now had at my disposal. It wasn't near Ariella's, Calcelmo's, or even Sybille's but it was close to a normal magician my age who had been studying for a couple of years for sure.

_I'm still not sure I can cast this new spell. _

"I have been working hard." I told the woman in front of me, trying to play it off. My head turned to the window after I said it. The sun had yet to peak over the horizon, but light was beginning to spill into the tower.

_The men should be close to finishing breakfast. _I thought as I flexed my magicka in the familiar form of meditation.

Sybille twitched from her position on the bed and I could tell she sensed my magicka. She frowned as I continued the exercise.

"Calcelmo had the same reaction." I said as I noticed her twitch.

"My first thought is to correct you, but if I think about it, it makes sense." Sybille said as she stood up.

"It is similar to a muscle." I explained. "The more you use it…"

"Yes, yes, I know how a muscle works." Sybille interrupted. "We'll have to continue this conversation later. We are needed at the Palace."

She moved past me to the stairs and started down the tower. I followed her, taking the information in stride.

"What for, exactly?" I asked the vampire.

"Some very important people are arriving soon."

* * *

"How did it go?"

Tullius looked like he had been up for hours when I got to the Blue Palace. Letters, with his handwriting on them, stood in one pile on his desk, while opened letters laid neatly stacked on each other in another pile.

"She is impressive." I answered him, and tried not to think about my meeting with Sybille any more.

Tullius and Rikke both snorted at my response. Rikke sat in a chair with her feet up and a book on tactics in her hand. Her eyes snapped up to me.

"Yes she is." Rikke commented quietly.

Tullius looked in her direction and just shook his head at her. I couldn't help but smile at my fellow nord.

"Yes, when I heard my messenger had been relieved by the Court Wizard, I expected you to be...delayed." Tullius said, holding on to the smirk on his face. "Very few catch her attention. Her gaze has been known to captivate many." He looked straight at Rikke when he said that.

Rikke's grin turned lecherous then, but she didn't comment further on the topic.

"All joking aside, she might be the most dangerous person in the city. Her words hold weight, and although I have a cordial relationship with her, it wouldn't hurt for you to improve the Legion's position in the city." Tullius continued, this time speaking directly to me.

"I was not under the impression that I am a whore to be used for the Legion, General." The words slipped out of my mouth without thinking.

Rikke's head snapped to mine, her book forgotten. She looked about ready to murder me at General Tullius' order.

Tullius himself never looked up from the letter he was writing, and replied almost immediately.

"Then you weren't paying attention, Hadvar. We are what the Legion needs us to be." Tullius told me nonchalantly. He was right of course, it was just something I never even considered being asked to do.

"I am not asking you to seduce her." Tullius offered. "Just do not ruin all of the hard work I have done in Skyrim."

_She has that much influence in the Palace? Makes one wonder just who she has under her spell. _

"Yes sir." I told my superior, satisfied that he wasn't giving me a direct order.

_Most men would kill for that assignment. _

"Now for the reason I actually called you here." General Tullius said, his eyes finally moving from the letter he was writing on and looking at me.

"Everyone important in Skyrim will be here in the next week or so. In fact, we expect your hometown friend at any moment now." Tullius continued. "I would like a showing from the legion… Have the men be…"

"Already done, General." I told Tullius a little more assertively than I should have. "The men will be ready."

Tullius stopped writing, and finally looked up to me. He let a small smirk crawl across his face.

"Good."

* * *

My eyes roamed the crowd that stood with curiosity around the main entrance into Solitude.

A legionnaire stood in full uniform, sword on his hip, shield on his arm, and a spear in their hand side by side, creating a line on both sides of the road that would allow a large party to enter the city without having to worry about the civilians.

A runner had alerted us to the imminent arrival of the new Jarl of Whiterun, Ralof. I had hopped on a horse as fast as I could and raced to the gates to make sure that I was seen escorting him. So far, he hadn't shown, but news had spread quickly and the civilians of Solitude soon learned of new arrivals.

I bided my time by looking over my men, making sure they looked comfortable in their uniforms, and generally keeping them in line. My presence alone had straightened a couple of them up.

Eventually, a hush ran over the crowd that emanated from outside the gates.

_Well I'll give him one thing, he knows how to pull the look off. _

Ralof rode at the head of his party on top of a beautiful midnight black horse, whose head would have been a good foot taller than the others, in a magnificent version of wolf armor.

The design was very very similar to what the games portrayed, except it was obviously made out of better materials. The chest piece was actually made out of what looked to be like ebony, if the black sheen was anything to go off of, making it look almost black. The Accents on the chest piece were made out of silver, making it much more noticeable against the ebony background. The fur that made up the skirt and padding underneath the shoulder pads was also black and of the highest quality I had seen. The lower part of the armor matched the top in it's flair and uniqueness.

Ralof's blonde hair fell down onto the armor, drawing my eyes to his face.

He met my eyes immediately, from fifty yards away.

His face didn't let his emotions show, but his eyes told me that he was surprised to see me. _Maybe he has yet to hear of me or my deeds? _I wondered as I analyzed the look.

We stared each other down for a bit, and the whole time his horse never stopped moving forward. I almost didn't notice the massive black battleaxe in his right hand, but once he got closer it was obviously Wuuthrad, the same weapon Ysgramor himself had wielded when our ancestors landed on the continent.

I wanted to take my eyes off of Ralof's so bad, to examine the magnificent weapon from the legends. Although I refused to lose the staredown to my hometown friend turned enemy, regardless of his station.

I prodded my horse towards the center of the road, right in the middle of his path when he was about fifteen yards away. Two identical black-haired men that rode slightly behind on both sides of Ralof moved to spur their horses forward, to meet me.

Ralof's hand darted out, and they stopped immediately, as did the entire procession of men and women behind them.

Ralof's horse trotted towards me without any physical commands from him. I mentally thanked my own horse for not embarrassing me as the monster Ralof rode closed the distance quickly.

As much as I didn't want to, my right arm went to my chest and I dipped my head towards the man.

"Jarl Ralof." I greeted as tradition stated and raised my head to once again meet him in the eye.

Ralof nodded towards me slightly, and his mouth twitched into what I thought might be the smallest smirk of all man-kind.

"Old friend."

Ralof's voice hadn't changed a bit from what I remember, although his greetings towards me has. I didn't let it show but it threw me off for a moment. His voice was still the type to boom across rooms and battlefields. It held weight to it, and you felt like the sound itself might make you budge from the force alone.

"General Tullius asked me to escort you to the Blue Palace." I told the man who would most likely become my enemy again.

Ralof said nothing, he just nodded towards me, accepting the courtesy. I nodded back before turning to my men.

"Form up!"

My men moved in unison, as if we had been practicing for months, when in reality it was only a week. Each of them took four steps forward to make a narrower path for our guests before turning in the direction of the Blue Palace.

_They paid attention this morning it seems. _I thought as the men finished getting in position.

"Forward march!"

I turned my horse as I gave the command, allowing Ralof to ride beside me at the head. Technically, my orders were to ride ahead of my own men and lead them through the city, but my curiosity got the best of me.

The sound of marching men hit our ears immediately, as did the oo's and ah's of the crowd.

"Impressive." Ralof commented as we started our horses walking towards the Palace. "The Legion has changed."

That statement was so loaded, it wasn't even funny.

"It had, and still has, to." I replied, playing his game.

"Of that, there is no doubt." Ralof told me.

That was a very curious thing to say, because it could mean many things. Does he want it to change because he knows of the greater threat we face in the Aldmeri Dominion? Or does he want it to change because he wants the Stormcloak's to replace it?

I couldn't ask him what I wanted to. I couldn't say what I wanted to. So I said nothing, and let the sound of men marching, and horses hooves hitting the ground fill my ears. My eyes scanned the crowd in front of me constantly, searching for threats I knew wouldn't come.

"I did not expect you here, Hadvar." Ralof said unexpectedly. "Last I heard, you were in some trouble in Markarth."

That surprised me for a moment. _How has he not heard of my victory over the Forsworn? _I wondered.

_Well the road from Whiterun to Solitude is long, longer than most because of the route over the mountains one has to take. Markarth to Solitude is a much easier and faster ride. Maybe the combination of integrating himself into his new city and traveling hasn't let him catch up on the events of Skyrim. _

"Much has changed since then." I answered him briefly.

"I know why you ride beside me, instead of with your men." Ralof said bluntly, cutting through our game slightly. "We both want answers, so let us trade questions."

I smiled at that, as my old friend's personality finally came out from his Jarl exterior. Ralof had always been a very blunt person, while I had been a little more cordial.

"You first." I said, trying to get the ball rolling and deferring to him.

"What is your position, now?" Ralof asked.

We continued to ride through the city, yet we had yet to catch a glimmer of the Blue Palace, and we wouldn't for probably another half-hour at the pace we rode.

"General Tullius' personal Battlemage." I answered truthfully. "Although my duties extend far beyond that."

Finally, I got a reaction from Ralof. He tensed slightly in surprise, the same way he used to when we were kids. I got a little smug then. He didn't comment so I decided to ask my question.

"Why aren't you with Ulfric?" I asked, getting straight to the point.

Ralof expected the question, no doubt. "He is not the man I thought he was." Ralof answered ominously.

_Well duh, Ralof. I tried telling you that before you left. I told you it wouldn't be like the stories. _I thought to myself.

"How did you get to this position, Hadvar?" Ralof asked quickly after his answer. It seemed his answers would be much more blunt. He was tired of beating around the bush.

I sighed, realizing we were nearing the end of our little game. "Fine, I will stop being vague."

"I discovered a conspiracy in Markarth between the Silver-Blood's and the Forsworn. My Captain was in on it, and threw me in jail. So I broke out, and delivered the King of the Forsworn to Igmund's feet in exchange for my freedom. I told him everything. He used the information masterfully, and cut one of the biggest families in Skyrim legs out from underneath them." I explained quickly. I didn't see the need to go into much detail.

My vagueness was a sort of test for my old friend, to see if he could piece everything together as a Jarl. I wanted to see if the stories of his competence were true, or just an exaggeration about a hero.

Ralof smiled widely. "Let me guess, he renegotiated the Silver-Blood mine agreement. What did he do? Take it from them, or give it to his people?"

_Maybe the rumors of his competence are true, then. _I deduced.

"Gave it to the people." I answered.

Ralof actually laughed. It was a booming, deep laugh. One that belonged in a tavern somewhere after a raunchy joke was told.

"Good!" Ralof said and gestured for me to continue. I absentmindedly wondered when I would get my questions answered but continued anyway.

"Then, Igmund and I led a campaign against the Forsworn that set their population back generations." I told him, trying not to sound too cocky or confident. A small twinge of guilt ran through me as I remembered the events of the Battle of Druadach.

"After that, Tullius saw my worth and gave me this position. Here we are." I finished.

Ralof was looking at me from his position on his horse, and I continued to stare forward. I don't know why, but I didn't want to meet his eyes this time.

"So we have both seen war, then?" Ralof asked rhetorically. "Not like the stories say, is it?"

"No it is not." I answered almost immediately.

We fell into a silence then, and continued to ride. We passed through a few more gates before the Blue Palace finally came into view. I knew we still had a little bit of a ride, but I decided to press him for his story.

"It is your turn, old friend. I didn't think anyone could have a more eventful four months than I did, but I have been proven wrong and I want to hear it from you." I told Ralof, and waited.

He shuffled on his horse, and I realized that the weight of the armor, and Wuuthrad must be enormous, and yet he acted as if he barely felt the weight at all. The signs kept pointing towards him being a werewolf.

"Well, once I discovered that the Stormcloaks are not what I expected, I tried to leave. I learned that it was not so simple. Without going into details, I wound up in a Companion's camp, on the verge of death. They nursed me back to full health and brought me to Whiterun and Jorrvaskr." Ralof began before getting off topic.

"Have you noticed how martially advanced we are, compared to the average nord?" Ralof asked as if he had just remembered something.

"Yes. It is odd, no?" I answered.

Ralof nodded quickly. "Well it saw me rise through the ranks of the Companion's quickly. As fast as anyone has. Soon, I found myself in the Inner Circle just as we encountered the Silver Hand for the first time in a long time."

Ralof took a deep breath. "What the public doesn't know is that we decimated their numbers before they ever attacked Whiterun. We celebrated the victory for days. And then I woke up to a silver dagger in my gut, and an attack on Whiterun. Even though we won, Whiterun and the Companions suffered a lot of losses. Next thing I know, they're calling me the reincarnation of Ysgramor and I am given the position of Jarl." Ralof's story was just as quick and lacking of detail as my own, but it matched up with what I had heard from Tullius.

"I hear you are much more capable than I would have expected you to be." I teased the man beside me like we were still in Riverwood.

Right as I said that, we arrived at the final gate that would lead us into the Blue Palace. I was reminded of how close the Challenge was as I looked at the massive structure. Soon, Ulfric would arrive, and I still had no plan.

"You have no idea, old friend." Ralof said loudly before his voice dropped very low. His next words were spoken just as we crossed the threshold inside the gate, and saw the High King, and his entourage waiting for us.

"You can not allow the Challenge."

"Welcome, Jarl Ralof!"

* * *

A/N: Boom!

We're back on a schedule everyone. Enjoy this update, hopefully. Ralof finally makes an appearance along with Sybille!

And their fucking monsters! At least, Ralof is for sure. Sybille has just had a very long time to master her magick.

Not a ton of information dropped in this chapter, but the small amount is very very influential on what can happen in the future. Ralof's personality and attitude to Hadvar and his story should be a big indicator.

Let's talk in the reviews!


	16. Act II: Chapter 6

Hello everyone,

Is it weird that I read less and less Fanfiction everyday? I have found that I am getting drawn towards more actual fantasy books than the website. I don't know what it is, and I can't explain it. I used to spend days finding good stories on this site, and now I don't even try.

I bet it has something to do with the fact that I write more than I read nowadays, and the times I do want to read, it's not staring at the same computer screen. This may be a dumb question, because you're obviously reading this on the website, but has anyone else experienced anything similar?

Anyway, onto the chapter.

Follow me on instagram at wtmcdonaldauthor!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

*Ariella's POV*

"Remind me why I must wear this."

The ceremonial garbs of the Arch-Mage were extremely uncomfortable, and the warming enchantment on it was combining with the one on her normal robes. The urge to dismantle the enchantments on the Arch-Mage robes increased.

"It is tradition, Arch-Mage." Mirabelle Ervine, my master wizard and most annoying person on the planet informed me, again.

_Fuck tradition. _I thought, but wisely kept it to myself. _Sometimes I wish I was born a nord. Their women can curse at will. _

"And no, you can not remove the enchantments." Mirabelle said, reading my mind. She really was the most annoying person on the planet, always acting like my mother.

"I hate you." I told her for what had to be the thousandth time.

"Stop being dramatic." Mirabelle replied normally. This was a daily occurrence for us, and as much as I thought she was annoying, I knew she was unimaginably useful. That was the only reason I hadn't committed homicide and fled to Black Marsh.

I rolled my eyes and flexed my magicka slightly.

The warming enchantment on the robes I was wearing underneath the Arch-Mage robes fell away, and I sighed in content. Not only did it immediately get cooler, but my magicka sang at the feeling of being used.

It was always a chore to keep it under wraps around my fellow mages, but my gift, or curse, always made those around me uncomfortable. Especially J'zargo, the poor cat.

_It's not their fault, I just started way too early. _My mind supplied. _And having a High Elf for a mother has its own benefits. _

That particular thought brought back painful memories that I pushed to the back of my mind. I focused on the horse beneath me and it's peaceful trot. Even with my chest secured tightly with a bra of my own design, the bouncing of my _assets_ once again made me think about my mother's gifts.

I looked up to see that we had finally gotten closer to Solitude's gates, which were open and inviting.

That was when I felt it.

_He is supposed to be in Markarth. _I couldn't help but frown and tilt my head as I felt the magick tickling my senses.

I have always been more magickally talented than almost all I had encountered, and my senses extended a bit further than most of my peers. I looked around to study their faces, none of them noticed.

My own magicka rose slightly so that I could _feel _what he was doing.

It was the oddest way of manipulating one's magick that I had ever felt, and I have felt a lot. There were traces of common alteration techniques intermingled with restoration.

_What is he doing? _

My feet spurred my horse forward in a more brisk trot. Absentmindedly, I heard a sigh behind me that belonged to Mirabelle. She said something that went in one ear and out the other. I was too focused on the feeling of his magicka.

_It's grown. _I deduced as the depth of his magicka was made aware to me.

I reached the front gates, and didn't even notice the guards that held their hand up, Mirabelle would set them straight in a few moments anyway. My horse passed by them and the few faces on the street that stared at me. It was a normal occurrence, another one of my mothers gifts.

I continued to ride, and felt his magicka falter with whatever spell he was casting. _No wonder it felt weird, he hasn't perfected it yet. _

Soon I found another gate, into a castle within the city walls. Absentmindedly, I knew that this was the Legion's source of power in Skyrim, even if I couldn't recall the name of it.

This time the guards needed a little persuasion, so I took a page out of his playbook and twisted a small amount of magicka on the four soldiers at the gate. They all backed up, scared witless from the sight of me.

Once I moved forward into the massive courtyard, I saw him.

He stood shirtless, surrounded by five men. I was surprised to see a Dunmer amongst their group.

Red lines of magicka leapt off of his form. It almost distracted me enough to ignore the way his muscles rippled with every movement.

The same sword I enchanted in Markarth swept out and parried a blow from one of the men around him before attacking two more with one swing of his sword. His leg struck out to the man who had snuck behind him and impacted the man's chest.

I contemplated watching him for longer, but I could feel his magicka plummeting. It would be over soon anyway.

My leg swung over my horse, and I dismounted. My feet hit the ground just as he cut his magicka off, right before it would have ran out completely.

I just couldn't help but tease him.

"You should work on your stamina, Hadvar."

* * *

*Hadvar POV*

"You should work on your stamina, Hadvar."

Now that I wasn't casting Mages Downfall, I could feel her, not ten feet from me and closing. I smiled at her teasing and turned to look at her.

She wore the feathered robes of the Arch-Mage, although they had obviously been tailored to fit her form. A form that I was happy to look on again.

Her silvery-blonde hair shined under the Skyrim sun in a way that I couldn't help but compare to the snow I was so familiar with. It was a little longer than when she had left Markarth, and I couldn't help but think it fit her.

Her icy blue eyes met mine just as the men around me started snickering at the teasing joke she had introduced herself.

My head snapped to the legionnaires I had just finished whooping up on. They stopped laughing immediately.

"Dismissed." I said, and they obeyed, although most of their eyes looked towards Ariella longingly.

I turned back to her and the smile from earlier returned to my face. "Is five minutes not long enough for you, Ariella?" I teased back.

That was actually the longest I could hold the spell for now, and I was barely even increasing my physical abilities. The most it seemed to do was improve reaction time for now. I really wasn't even stronger or faster yet. From the warnings in the book, this was only the start. Once I actually got skilled enough to improve my muscular performance, it would eat at my magick faster.

Ariella smiled at me, although she didn't show any discomfort from the joke.

"Not even close." She replied, continuing the line of jokes.

And then, before I could respond with something witty, she closed the distance and wrapped her arms around my sweaty frame. It surprised me.

We had grown into friends during her time spent in Markarth, but never had we initiated any physical contact, beyond what was appropriate. My arms wrapped around her awkwardly, as I was not expecting it.

It was not a romantic hug, more like a 'it's good to see someone familiar' hug. She had been through a lot since I had seen her, and so had I.

_Is this the first hug I've given someone since I've been in this world? _

"What are you doing here?" Ariella asked as she pulled away.

The feathers on her Arch-Mage robes clung to me because of the moisture holding onto them. I waited for her to crinkle her nose at the smell of me, but she didn't so I decided to answer the question.

"My time in Markarth awarded me the title of General Tullius' personal Battlemage." I bragged as I widened my arms, gesturing to the structure around me. It might as well be all mine.

Her eyes widened slightly in surprise. "I shouldn't be surprised, you've grown."

The sound of hooves behind her, let me know that her entourage had caught up with her. I saw the form of a khajiit, and a woman with slightly pointed ears, signaling breton heritage. Even more people with the robes of magicians sat at the gates of Castle Dour.

_J'zargo, and Mirabelle Ervine. _I deduced as they rode up.

"You have too." I told her, getting back to the conversation.

It was true too. Now that my magicka was returning, I could feel just how deep her magicka had become. Already she had larger reserves by Calcelmo before she left for the College. Now she would have dwarfed him. There was absolutely no comparison between my reserves and her own.

_Nothing like a little struggle to make someone grow. _I couldn't help but think.

Ariella's smile dropped slightly. "It's been a long road."

I felt for her, I really did. Because I could relate.

"Yes it has been."

* * *

"Ah, the newest Arch-Mage. It is good to see you again Ariella."

High King Torygg stood in the same spot as he had for every guest that arrived in Solitude over the past two weeks, with his wife beside him. I dismounted, and handed the reins of my horse to a stable boy that raced over. He took the horse and led it away.

"Hello, my King." Ariella said as she curtosied from atop of her horse before dismantling and handing her horse off also.

Torygg scoffed. "You earned my name, a long time ago, Ariella. We've been over this." Torygg said, surprising me. Even if she did take care of Potema, that was a high honor.

I bowed to the High King of Skyrim, as tradition dictated. Once I held it long enough, I moved to stand by Tullius' side. He gave me a look out of the side of his eye that told me we would talk later.

I tuned out the rest of the conversation, mainly because it was introducing people of Ariella's entourage. Instead, my mind was on how time was running out for the Challenge that would take Torygg's life. I had scoured the literature on challenges in the past and had yet to find anything damning for the use of magic or the Thu'um during a challenge. It was heavily implied that it is forbidden, but not expressly stated.

I went over the checklist in my mind of the Jarls who had arrived and hadn't.

_Igrod, Siddgeir, and Ralof have already arrived. _

_Igmund is expected any day now. And none of the Jarl's that are openly critical of the Aldmeri Dominion have arrived yet. When most of them are closer than the ones who have arrived. _

My mind had already begun to see the conspiracies that I had no way of proving. Skyrim's landscape is notoriously difficult. Many many explanations could be used for the other Jarl's absence. It was just hard for me to believe the convenience of Stormcloak supporting Jarl's not showing up yet.

"Follow me." Tullius grumbled by my side.

I obeyed and turned to follow the man. My eyes caught Ariella's, and I thought I saw a bit of disappointment hidden in her eyes. I tried to send an apology with my eyes. I'm sure it looked like I was having an aneurysm.

We crossed the rest of the distance to the courtyard of the Blue Palace. As soon as we broke line of sight, and well past hearing distance, Tullius placed an open letter into my hands. The seal was broken, so I couldn't tell what exactly it was. The words on the page cleared up the secrecy quickly.

'_Tullius, _

_You have raised very good points as to the 'Challenge' that is to happen soon. I agree with you completely, for more reasons than you yourself know. Ulfric has been making inquiries outside of Skyrim. You must understand that this information cost many lives to obtain, and even then it is hearsay and guessing. _

_Ulfric has been consistently talking to the people who secretly oppose the Aldmeri Dominion in Hammerfell. The topic of discussion has been debated but we both know he seeks independence from the Empire. Hammerfell has yearned for it for a long time. Can't he see that we're just biding our time? Does he have so little faith, or is it overwhelming arrogance? The continent is slowly descending into the days before the Empire, my friend. _

_Your goal remains the same. Unite Skyrim, and get the army we need. Attached is the document you asked for. Use it well. _

_Akatosh guide you. _

_Titus Mede II' _

I frowned at the small amount of information the Emperor decided to give us and flipped the page. It was the document that Tullius had apparently asked for.

'_The Challenge between Jarl Ulfric of Windhelm, and High King Torygg is hereby declared as a legal challenge. _

_The two will decide leadership of Skyrim through the Old Ways, with martial prowess. _

_As Jarl Ulfric is known for his time studying under the Greybeards at the Throat of the World, he is banned from using the Thu'um or Magick during the Challenge. _

_High King Torygg is also banned from using the Thu'um, or Magick during the challenge. _

_If these terms are broken, the Challenge will be declared unlawful and the Empire will interfere._

_May Akatosh guide us all._

_Titus Mede II' _

My shoulders slumped and I let out a breath that I hadn't realized I was holding. A burden was lifted from my shoulders slightly. This was the permission I needed to interfere in the Challenge, if I needed to.

Tullius watched me read the letter the whole time, and was waiting for me to finish. When he saw my reaction, he finally spoke.

"You have your orders, Hadvar."

* * *

Jarl Igmund arrived the next day.

So did the news of why the other Jarls had yet to arrive.

"They are coming together." Tullius' news wasn't that surprising, but I had to clarify what he said.

"What do you mean, together?" I asked.

"Skald, Laila, Korir, and Ulfric are all traveling together. With an entourage of about three-thousand." Tullius explained.

_Well that isn't a lot. We could defend against an invasion like that easily. _I thought as I pondered the number. Although, I had enough of being caught unawares of Skyrim, and immediately made the decision of increasing the men's training. They were already progressing quickly, but have yet to get any practical training like the men in Markarth had.

_Now that Bjorn is here with Igmund. I can trust him to oversee that. _

"Some would call that an army." I commented while continuing to think through everything.

"It is a show of force, a subtle threat, nothing more." Tullius revealed as if it was completely obvious.

"Well, if it all goes to plan, we can stop this rebellion before it ever begins." I told him. I should have known better than to jinx it.

"No, no, no. Twist it like… this."

Ariella's magicka flooded my senses and showed me how she wanted me to try it.

I obeyed and twisted the magicka in my left arm, just as she showed me, while holding onto the alteration involved in the spell. My mind was straining, to merge the magicks that it thought would repel each other.

And then it clicked. The magicks melded together seamlessly. _Feeling _the magicka combine gave me more insight into the spell than any of my other attempts. I had been trying to operate every aspect of the spell independently of each other, convinced that they couldn't be combined.

I moved my arm slightly.

'_POP' _

I grunted as a searing pain emanated from my shoulder. The magicka encasing my arm fell out of my grasp as my mind was overloaded with pain.

"Oh my God!" Ariella said just as I looked down to the source of my pain.

My mind caught on to the phrase. It was the first time I had heard anyone say 'God' instead of 'Akatosh' or 'Talos'. A theory that had been in my head for a while now, made itself known again.

My shoulder was out of its socket. I stood up quickly and moved to the stone wall of my tower. I reached for my magicka, and found that I didn't have any left.

_What? I barely held the spell for a moment. _I thought, ignoring the pain in my shoulder for a moment. I stood there, gaping as I pondered the amount of magicka it had cost me for just a second of success.

Ariella noticed my stunned expression and must have felt that I was out of magicka, because she moved over to me.

"Here, let me." She said as her hand went to the shoulder that wasn't where it was supposed to be.

Once again her sun of magicka wrapped around me. I embraced it, and let it flow through me. At first, I thought she would heal it for me, but when she paused, I _understood _that she was going to allow me to use her magicka to heal myself.

I almost began to ponder the implications of that small fact. Before now, I wouldn't have thought it possible to do such a thing. So to test, I _grabbed _her magicka and manipulated it into the healing magicka I needed.

My shoulder went numb for a moment, and my body felt a small pressure as the shoulder slid back into place. The strained tendons around my shoulder were torn slightly, so I fixed them also.

When it was all said and done, I felt absolutely no difference in Ariella's magicka. It was still just as vast and deep as it had been before.

"Thank you." I said.

I opened my eyes to the sight of her standing very close to me, and removing her hand off of my shoulder. Her touch lingered on that spot after it left. Ariella made no sign to show that she had heard what I said.

"You'll have to enhance the areas around your focus if we want to keep you in one piece." Ariella said, thinking about the cause of my dislocated shoulder. "And we need to get your Magicka reserves up… a lot."

"How?" I asked. She obviously grew her own, after already having a lot of magicka to begin with.

"Well, we're already doing it." She answered. "The fastest, and most natural, way is to drain yourself over and over again. If you're going for pure reserves, then it's as simple as draining yourself, and then letting it build back up, and draining yourself again. As much as you possibly can." She explained. It was nothing I hadn't heard before, but how did she manage to grow hers so fast?

I was about to question it, when a knock resounded through the tower. I got up and immediately went to the stairs. I climbed down them, with Ariella on my heels and opened the door.

"Ralof." I said with a grin. "Thank you for coming." I told him.

"Your letter didn't suggest I had a choice." The Jarl of Whiterun said as he stepped into the Tower. Vilkas and Farkas waited outside behind him. Some unspoken rule, apparently. Not that a literal army stood inside the same castle.

I moved back to the stairs, and started walking all the way up. The whole time, neither of them questioned why I hadn't told them of the other. They both just followed. I wasn't sure if it was because of their trust in me, or their trust in their own abilities that they said nothing.

Eventually, I reached the top and went to one of the three chairs that sat beside what I started calling 'the Conservatory'. I had been preparing for this chat for a while. I couldn't ignore the signs around me anymore.

Ariella sat closest to me, without hesitation, although she gave me a curious look. Ralof took the chair farthest from us.

"I thought you called me to work on the spell." Ariella said. I could tell she was making her own theories about why we were here.

On the surface, me calling two people that were around the same age group wasn't strange, especially when you considered our mirrored stories. Although there was something different that I could just _feel_. It wasn't anything to do with magicka with Ariella, or Ralof and I's past. No it was like meeting another lost soul, you just couldn't help but notice them.

And I need allies for the coming confrontation. These were two of the most powerful people in Skyrim right now.

"I did. Your insight has been invaluable." I answered Ariella. "In fact, I'm not sure I can repay you."

"Access to the spell is more than enough. You have know idea how much it can change for me." Ariella countered. "You owe me nothing."

I smiled at her, although it didn't reach my eyes. She did drive a hard bargain. I had only wanted her insight, and wasn't planning on revealing the book to her. But she claimed she couldn't solve a puzzle with both of her hands and feet tied behind her back. My lust for power had caused me to give in.

"This is touching." Ralof commented, lazily. He was getting impatient. "But I am a busy man."

I nodded to him and decided to get a few things out of the way. "The Challenge has been declared legal by the Emperor." I said, not really surprising anyone.

"Of course it was." Ralof agreed and waited.

"Although he has forbidden the use of the Thu'um and magick for it." I revealed.

Neither of them reacted outwardly beyond the raising of an eyebrow and sitting back in their seat. Their faces were impassive, although I could tell they were pondering the implications. I decided to move the conversation along.

"I assume we all know of Ulfric's youth spent studying under the Greybeard's?"

That was my first feeler question. That was NOT common knowledge. True, both of them could be informed because of their positions. But it was more likely that neither of them knew about it.

They both nodded at me, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

_Confirmation number one. _

"I suspected this was to be his trump card. So I had Tullius get me permission to intervene. If Ulfric tries something during the Challenge, I will interfere." I continued. I wasn't prepared for either of them to interrupt me.

"He will." Ralof said confidently. There was no room for doubt in his statement.

"You're confident." Ariella pointed out the obvious.

Ralof just nodded in response. "You may believe he wants the position of High King, but he doesn't. He wants independence from the Empire completely. He won't care what the Emperor has to say about tradition. Why should he? The Emperor isn't a nord. He doesn't follow the old ways. Who is he to declare it illegal in the Challenge? Ulfric will shout him down regardless."

My mind caught on to the phrase 'shout him down'. The Thu'um has been lost to all but the Greybeards and the most superstitious of nords. Who says 'shout him down'. I would have expected 'kill him with the Thu'um' or some other use of vocabulary.

_Confirmation number two. _

"So it will be a Civil War, then?" Ariella said, jumping ahead of the conversation.

Ralof nodded. "And I suspect that is why we are here today. Isn't that right, old friend?" Ralof asked.

He must have thought himself extremely clever, to discover one of my reasonings.

"Yes, that is right. I am curious to where you stand on the issue." I said, manipulating the conversation slightly.

"The Empire is scared of the Aldmeri. They are barely holding together the three provinces they have." Ralof scoffed. My heart sank at the words.

_So he still supports the Stormcloaks? _

"Four." Ariella corrected nonchalantly.

"Morrowind is nothing but ash. Skyrim, High Rock, and Cyrodiil are the only real players in the game. And we have powerful enemies. The Aldmeri don't have the manpower right now, but they're winning the game in the shadows. They are fortifying their position while weakening ours. We are losing." Ralof said passionately.

"Yes we are." I agreed with him truthfully. He looked at me curiously, as if he hadn't expected that. "And that is why I called you here." I told him.

"Ulfric will try to kill Torygg. I will stop him. Next is a Civil war that I plan on making the shortest in recorded history. Although I will need help. Whiterun is the deciding factor. If you choose Ulfric, Talos' empire falls apart and next thing you know Skyrim is surrounded on all sides by every race. Our children will be born slaves." I told him. I made it up on the spot, but it wasn't far off the mark. That was a very real outcome.

Ralof looked up to the ceiling above us, just as he used to when we were children. It was something he did whenever he knew you were right, and didn't want you to be.

Here came the real bomb.

"The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim."

I pointed at Ralof. "Companions quest line."

I pointed at Ariella. "College of Winterhold quest line."

I jerked a thumb at myself.

Ariella interrupted me. "Civil War quest line: Imperial."

Ralof's head dropped to his hands in relief and he took a deep breath. Ariella's eyes found the ceiling. I dropped the hand that had been pointing and relaxed a little myself. It felt better now that the truth was on the table.

Giddiness rose up inside me. I wasn't alone. There were others like me.

The three of us sat like that for a while, not saying anything but all thinking similar ideas.

"We have a few problems." Ralof said finally as his head rose from his hands. "Assassins Brotherhood, Thieves Guild, Dawnguard, First Dragonborn."

"The Dragonborn, and Alduin." Ariella added at the end.

"None of us know of the others?" I asked, curious whether or not they were hiding anything.

The both shook their heads in the negative. I continued on to the last point as to why I brought us all together.

"If I interfere, will you help me?" I asked, getting back on topic to the present.

Now that all of us knew we were all the same, none of us wanted to go into details of our stories. I suspected that we may never go into detail. That was fine with me. My past life is in the past. Now I'm Hadvar, a nord trying to make Skyrim a better place.

"Yes." Ariella said. "Of course." I smiled at her, happy. I was suspicious that would be the case. She returned the smile with one of her own. It was a tired smile. We both looked to Ralof, waiting for him to answer me.

He stood up and moved to the stairs. For a moment, I suspected he wouldn't answer me. That would, of course, be an answer in itself.

"You have my axe, brother."

* * *

a/n: Boom!

It's been a while. Sorry about the wait everyone. I try not to commit to anything on Saturday's, because it's a writing day, but shit happens ya know?

Anyway, a couple of things happened in this chapter. Ariella and Hadvar reunite. She is helping him with the spell. Hadvar has permission to intervene in the Challenge! Things are looking up!

And finally, they all know of each other now, and are on the same side! Even if it rubs Ralof a little wrong.

What do we think?

Let's talk in the reviews!


	17. Act II: Chapter 7

Hello everyone,

So when I confirmed that there are multiple SI's in this fic, a lot of people gave up on the story. I have to ask. Why is everyone completely willing to give up because multiple people from our world end up in Skyrim? And beyond that, why isn't that interesting? I found it fascinating. Has it been done before? And did that fic go badly?

Anyway, on to the chapter. Some more bombs are gonna be dropped today.

Follow me on instagram at wtmcdonaldauthor!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

_There he is. _

I caught the first glimpse of a horse rising over a hill about two hundred yards in front of the stone arch that sat above the Karth River. Five seconds later, I recognized him as Ulfric.

I did not recognize the two people who rode right beside him.

I looked around to the people around me. High King Torygg sat at the front of our group, ready for war. Beside him was his wife, Elisif the fair, and General Tullius. Beside them was Jarl Igmund, Jarl Idgrod, and Jarl Siddgeir.

Ralof had declined the invitation to stand beside the High King, opting to take his place beside me and Ariella. Their presence gave me confidence for the coming confrontation. Torygg understood our position, and ignored the slight against him. Ralof was already a renowned warrior, so I doubted Torygg complained about having him ready to interfere in the duel.

My men stood in formation around our party. I scrapped the training routine once I heard that Ulfric was close, and we began practicing a different formation that would ensure the protection of the most powerful men in Skyrim. Although I doubted we would get the chance, since the High King's personal guard were closer, and looked ready to jump at a moment's notice.

"Hadvar." Ariella's voice caused me to turn and look at her. It wasn't a panicked tone of voice, just one that told me I would be surprised.

I followed her gaze.

Ulfric rode forward at a lazy pace on the back of his horse. Beside him were two men I didn't recognize from afar. Behind them were the other Jarl's that supported him, and beyond them were the thousands of men and women that joined them and made up their entourage/army. I ignored them for the two men beside Ulfric.

One of them was a dark elf, with eyes that shone like the sun, and promised death. He wore the immaculate robes of a Vampire Lord. If those two weren't enough of an indicator about who he was, then the magickal aura he gave off did. It spoke of domination, and other unmentionable things. He rode a black horse with red eyes, and I knew it was Shadowmere. Every motion was graceful on these two.

Before I realized it, I was looking over the second man. I should have noticed his garb sooner. It was Miraak's robes, minus the mask. The main robe was black, with a green tint to it. Dragonbone pauldrons donned his shoulders and vambraces lined his forearms. A quick glance at his hip and I noticed the wiggling that accompanied Miraak's sword. His face was handsome, with black hair that fell down to his shoulders. Black eyes peaked out to me. He moved with even more confidence than Ulfric.

_Both the dlc questlines. One is definitely not Harkon. Talos, don't let that be Miraak himself. _

My gut told me that was exactly who it was.

Ariella's magickal aura rose significantly. I suspected it was her preparing herself for a massive confrontation. I had originally thought it was the sun. Now it felt like the ocean, all-encompassing, never-ending, and with a subtle promise to swallow you whole.

Ralof's aura changed also, although it was otherworldly. It was his werewolf inside, coming out to play. There seemed to be something stalking around us.

I didn't change, although I did prepare myself. Something told me that Ulfric wouldn't obey the rules of the Challenge at all.

Ulfric and his party stopped about twenty feet away. Ulfric and the dark elf were looking towards Torygg. But the man I prayed would not be Miraak stared at me. Not my companions, but me. As if he was surprised to see me. He seemed a little too interested in me actually.

"Wo Los Daar?" The man was the first to speak, and his voice rumbled across the distance. It was the tongue of the dragon. I didn't understand a word of it. But I did feel the sound reach my bones.

Regardless of if the man was Miraak or not. He was Dovahkiin, of that there was no doubt. That didn't reassure me in any way.

Ulfric and the dark elf looked in my direction then, and he frowned. Obviously neither of them expected me. I tried not to worry about their stares.

"Ulfric." Torygg's voice cut across the distance, causing the three of them to look towards the High King of Skyrim. "It has been a long time my friend."

_Friend? _I pondered.

"It has." Ulfric confirmed. His voice was exactly like it was in the games. Powerful, deep, and commanding. I knew it was because of his proficiency with the Thu'um. His vocal cords must be made of steel by now.

"We grew up together, Torygg." Ulfric said. I frowned, and made a mental note to ask about that later. "I know where you stand on the Aldmeri Dominion, but our people don't, and that presents a problem."

Ulfrice looked around to the people behind him, and gestured to those on our side also. "This is your last chance. Renounce them, and I will spare your life. Today, I will be named High King."

The hair on my neck stood up at that last statement.

"You know nothing then, Ulfric. I am willing to kill you, if you pursue this path." Torygg responded. I realized they were having a silent conversation, in the ways that only old friends could.

Ulfric said nothing else, and swund a foot out of his stirrup, dismounting his horse. His companions mirrored him. I dismounted first on our side of the battlefield. Ariella and Ralof followed me.

Torygg let out a loud sigh, before dismounting also. He turned to his wife first. She leaned down and grabbed the back of his head. They kissed, and I couldn't help but think it was a goodbye kiss. They knew Ulfric wouldn't obey the emperor either.

Tullius began reading the letter from the emperor. I didn't hear the words. I was too busy studying Ulfric and his companions. The man that may or may not be Miraak, but was surely dovahkiin, smiled broadly when it was announced the Thu'um was banned from the Challenge. He spoke some more words in the language of the dragons to Ulfric. Ulfric didn't respond to him, but instead to us.

"The emperor is weak and undeserving of the title. How does he think Talos conquered Tamriel? With his sword?" Ulfric said while walking half the distance to Torygg. "No, it was with his Thu'um. He was Dovahkiin, Dragonborn, same as me!"

My heart dropped.

"Talos freed Skyrim, and then his gaze turned to the rest of the world. I will do the same, and it starts today."

_Is Ulfric really Dragonborn, or is that just a claim? _

I had heard enough, and put on my bravest face. "If you break the rules of the Challenge. I will interfere, Ulfric."

It wasn't Ulfric who responded, but the man who wore Miraak's clothes and sword. "If you interfere, _Gaaf_, everyone here will die."

The words were spoken with such confidence that I believed him for a moment. The small speck of fear that welled up in my heart was quashed quickly. I had been willing to die for what I believed in for a long time, in both lives. A Dragonborn would not change that.

"We shall see." Ariella countered, with just as much confidence.

"If Ulfric cannot defeat me as the old ways demand, then he is undeserving." Torygg said before turning to me. "The empire may only interfere once the Challenge has been forfeited, Battlemage."

I looked in Torygg's eyes, and realized he must have though we would begin fighting before the Challenge even began. He might have been right if he hadn't spoken up. I took my scolding with a nod towards him.

Torygg left his wife's side, and drew his sword before walking to meet Ulfric in the middle of our two parties. I readied my magic to interfere at any moment.

Torygg wasted no time. "Let the Challenge begin." He said.

Ulfric drew his sword slowly. It was a Nordic Carved Sword, made of ebony. The Nordic designs were silver on the black blade. I had no doubt the enchantments were impressive. I fingered my own sword on my waist.

The other man with Ulfric continued to stare at me, as if I was a puzzle for his eyes.

Ulfric and Torygg circled each other for a good two minutes, studying the way each other moved. They were obviously both fantastic swordsmen.

And then, they were a flurry of movement. They exchanged thrusts, and slashes. They moved, and parried, and moved again.

Ulfric kicked out at Torygg's leg, and Torygg lifted it slightly to take the blow. As they continued to duel, I realized that they must have been taught by the same swordmaster. It only made me more intrigued to know of their past. It was a dance, that they were equal in, and one they had done before.

The first blow was made when Ulfric's fist connected with Torygg's nose, breaking it. My respect for the High King rose when he ignored it and countered the downward slash that immediately followed, elegantly.

They backed away from each other for a moment, and started circling each other again. Blood poured down Torygg's face and into his beard.

I realized that the world was eerily quiet.

"First blood goes to you." Torygg said, breaking the silence.

Ulfric responded by lunging forward and starting another engagement. After no less than ten parries by each man, Torygg performed a very advanced maneuver that cut through Ulfric's cloak on his abdomen. The cut was so shallow, that only a scratch showed on Ulfric's stomach.

They distanced themselves and began circling each other again. No words were spoken this time. The lull between their exchange was shortened drastically and they met in a flurry of swords again.

Grunts rang out with the clash of metal. Their moves became riskier, and more cuts were scored between the two of them.

A cut on Torygg's arm. A cut on Ulfric's thigh.

And then, without warning, Torygg caught Ulfric off-balance.

"_Fus._"

The word was whispered, but I caught it. So did Torygg, because he was flying through the air, towards our side of the field.

Ariella's magick entered the playing field and caught Torygg in mid-air before setting him down on the ground beside Sybille.

I drew my blade and advanced towards the leader of the Stormcloak's just as the sound of my men marching and advancing in front of the other Jarl's hit my ears. Sybille Stentor would be healing any damage that Torygg suffered quickly enough. I had a singular purpose, ending the rebellion before it could begin.

I felt Ralof's presence beside me. Ariella's magicka encompassed the battlefield again, although this time it was met with another. My senses, and eyes, told me it was the dark elf who was now levitating in the air with a wicked smile on his face.

A literal bolt of lightning tore through the air towards him and he batted it into the air with the back of his hand.

I had to focus, because a giant green tentacle flew through the air towards me. I sent my magicka towards my blade and activated the enchantment before deflecting the tentacle away.

"_Yol Tor_." Ulfric's shout sent a wave of fire across the battlefield towards Ralof.

There was a shimmer of _something _that surrounded Ralof, and the fire split around him, not allowing it to touch him. Ralof continued towards Ulfric, with a look of hatred on his face. I turned, allowing him to challenge the man who had left Ralof dying on the steps of Jorrvaskr.

My eyes sought out the new comer. He stood with Miraak's sword in his hand, waiting for me to approach. I saw the opportunity for information and took it.

"I did not realize the first Dragonborn had resurfaced." I said as I approached.

Flashes of lightning and fire lit up the world around us. Had I looked to Ralof and Ulfric, I would have seen them moving at inhuman speeds and scoring no blows against each other.

"Hermaeus didn't allow me to see you, why?"

That all but confirmed that I really was facing the first Dragonborn, Miraak. A man that had lived thousands of years in Hermaeus Mora's realm of Apocrypha, learning all kinds of things. I knew that this was the real threat, not Ulfric. This man probably knew Thu'um that rivaled Alduin's. I wondered if they had already killed Alduin, if he was out in the world free to roam.

"I do not interact with the Daedra. They have no hold over my soul." I responded truthfully. I was glad that the Daedric Prince of Knowledge didn't deem me important.

"How do you think you are here then, _Hun_?" Miraak countered.

I tried to ignore the piece of me that worried over that exact fact. How had I gotten here? In this dimension or realm or whatever you wanted to call it. Was it because of the Daedra?

I didn't respond, and Miraak took that as a sign that our conversation was over. I closed the rest of the distance with my sword in hand.

"_Mul Qah Diiv._" Miraak's shout told me so much about him.

I couldn't place it, but I knew that his Thu'um was so much more advanced than Ulfric's. It was said with such ease, that I thought he truly had the throat of a dragon, and not a man. I started to doubt the limitations the game put on the Thu'um.

Miraak was suddenly covered in a set of ethereal armor that I knew was Dragon Aspect. The shout that secured the continent for Tiber Septim.

I cast Mages Downfall quickly. I didn't direct it to my body, but more to my perception so that I could save magicka.

Miraak's slash was the fastest I had encountered, but I responded in kind. For a brief moment, I enhanced the muscles in my body that I would need to deflect the blow.

When our blades met, I felt my own buckle under the force we were exerting. I knew then that I couldn't outright block a single blow from Miraak or it would snap under the force. I would have to deflect and fight much more skillfully than normal.

I let Mages Downfall go back to only being perception enhancing, and felt my reserves fall about a quarter of the way because of the strain of enhancing a part of my body. Mentally I told myself I had to finish the fight in the next three moves, or I would die.

The plan came to my mind immediately.

How do you take away the Thu'um for Dovahkiin? I had been pondering this question for a long time now, just in case the Dragonborn didn't choose the side of the Imperial's. I came to a very simple solution for this problem.

Cut out their vocal cords.

I knew I wouldn't have that opportunity in this fight. From the simple slash that Miraak had executed, I knew he was better than I was with a blade.

So I settled for the next best thing.

If Miraak was surprised about my deflection of his tentacle blade, he didn't let it show. He moved into the next slash quickly. One that didn't let me execute my hastily formed plan.

I enhanced my body again and deflected the blow. My sword cracked.

Luckily, that sent Miraak into another overhead blow that would have cut me in two. I saw my opportunity and took it.

With one more chance, I activated my enhancement through my whole body for a moment. My sword broke in two as his slash connected with it.

I dropped the blade in mid-air and immediately stepped towards him. His eyes widened slightly and his body moved to avoid my counter attack.

It wasn't in time.

My fist connected with his throat.

It felt like punching an on-coming train, but my magicka protected my body and didn't allow it to buckle. His windpipe gave way to my fist.

I expected him to fall down, and be out for the count. But this was a man that had lived for thousands of years, and fought during the times when Dragons ruled Skyrim. His body immediately went into a kick towards my chest.

My magicka bottomed out suddenly.

Miraak's Thu'um didn't.

Had Ariella's magick not snatched me backwards, he would have done more than collapse my right lung and send shrapnel from my ribcage into it. His foot might have gone right through my chest and out the other side.

I couldn't dwell on that though, because I couldn't breathe and I was flying backwards through the air.

And I didn't have Magicka to heal myself with.

My eyes saw the battlefield just as clear as the blood I was coughing up.

As I was flying backwards, so was the dark elf that had challenged Ariella to a magickal duel. His eyes were closed and I could tell he was unconscious but not dead. Through the pain and blood, I wondered how much damage Ariella had to do to knock out a Vampire Lord. He showed no visible signs of the battle. But most of his clothes were burned off.

And then she hovered over me. Her eyes were fixed on my chest and she laid her hands there. Her ocean of magicka flooded my body, and suddenly it was mine to do as I wished. That was good too, because I was not a doctor in my past life and only knew the basics of fixing what was just done to me.

I focused on putting myself together, but wasted an enormous amount of magicka doing so.

For a brief moment I saw Ariella look away, and a small section of her Magicka get taken away from me.

I continued to heal myself, and finally was able to take in a deep breath that chased away the panic in my system. It also allowed me to smell the ozone in the air. Ariella was simultaneously dueling Miraak in magick, and lending me magicka to heal myself.

With a little more clarity, because of the oxygen returning to my body, I swiftly put my chest and ribs back together. I couldn't know it, but the crowd around me would describe it as a sun hovering over my chest, healing me. They would claim it was Talos blessing me, or at least that would be the story the Legion told to further my legend.

When I was done, my chest still hurt to breath and there was blood on my lips, but I stood up from my place on the ground.

The entire battle paused for a moment. Miraak, Ulfric, and the now awake dark elf stood side by side again staring at Ariella as if she was a Daedric Prince coming to steal their souls.

The hilt of a sword appeared in my vision, and I turned to it.

High King Torygg stood on shaky legs, with his ebony blade outstretched towards me. It was designed like a regular imperial blade, same as my now broken sword. The only difference was that there were old runes that ran up the blade. It had a simple statement.

'For Skyrim and Her People'

It was the King's Blade.

I knew the significance of him offering it. He was offering me to be his sword for the coming battle and war. If I refused, it would be the ultimate offense. So I didn't. Instead, I grabbed it more confident than I felt.

When I turned back towards the battlefield, Miraak had a hand to his throat and a yellow light surrounded it. I knew he wouldn't be using any shouts for a while. If he was smart, he wouldn't talk to strain it for at least two weeks. I had taken away their biggest threat and it had almost taken my life to do it.

Ulfric was a threat also, but if the way his face was slightly rearranged told me anything, it told me Ralof had handled him. I did notice slashes in Ralof's massive wolf armor, but his skin was already healed. Most likely another one of his werewolf abilities.

"From this moment onwards, I declare Civil War." Ulfric yelled to us from his position. "Torygg has broken the terms of the Challenge and accepted outside involvement. He forfeits his position as High King, and I claim it. I expect your surr…"

"Shut the fuck up!" I interrupted him, and didn't let him retort. My lung screamed at me for the exertion. "The Legion brands you and your followers traitors, and we will hunt you until you bend the knee again."

Ulfric's face turned furious, and he started moving towards us again. Miraak's hand snapped out and grabbed his shoulder. Ulfric looked at him, and I knew their mouths didn't move or speak. But I knew they had a conversation.

"_Next time we meet, it will be on a battlefield." _It was Miraak's voice, but inside my head. It was like he was broadcasting it to everyone. I didn't even know such a thing was possible.

"_And you will face the wrath of the dragons." _

Ulfric and his entourage hopped on their horses, and immediately high-tailed it out of there. I moved to mount my horse and give the order for my men to pursue, but a hand on my shoulder stopped me.

It was Torygg once again.

"We must let them go." Torygg commanded. "The actions earlier are considered a part of the Challenge. Everything after now, is a part of war. Tradition forces it's hand, Hadvar."

His voice was weaker, and it looked like he was straining to talk. I could relate to him. My lung still ached with every breath.

_Fuck, tradition does say that both parties are allowed to gather their forces before meeting again. _I remembered suddenly. A part of me wanted to pursue anyway and deal with the rebellion immediately. But I knew that would just sow hatred in half of Skyrim for generations to come, so I didn't. Plus, I didn't know if we would win if we pursued.

'For Skyrim and Her People' flashed into my mind and I felt the King's Blade in my hand. I nodded to Torygg in acceptance.

A part of me wanted to hand the sword back to him, but I knew I couldn't. Not until this war was over. Torygg could not take up another sword himself either. I was his sword now. The ramifications extended beyond this fight. All of Skyrim would see me, Battlemage of the Imperial Legion as the High Kings sword. It was a powerful statement.

I sheathed it on my waist with practiced precision.

"Skyrim needs you, Hadvar."

* * *

A/N: Boom!

Omg so many drops this chapter. If you want to know what Miraak said about Hadvar during the beginning of the chapter, you'll have to look it up. It will give you some insight into Miraak's mindset.

I would like to get this out there. Miraak is not an SI. He is just out of Apocrypha a little early, throwing another wrench into this world. More and more curveballs for Hadvar!

Ariella is a beast, let's just leave it at that.

Almost everyone that is important is on the playing field now guys. What did we think?

Let's talk in the reviews!


	18. Act II: Chapter 8

Hello everyone,

Sorry I missed a post last weekend. I took a last minute trip to see my family back home, and I didn't get back until Sunday, Conquer's update day. But we are back! I have decided that anyone who is leaving the story, is leaving for reasons I shouldn't worry about and hopefully they will come back if they see that I do this thing right. So I just need to execute, and then I might win them back. Let's go.

By the way. Did anyone piece together what Miraak was saying about Hadvar? I used only dragon words that are online… Might find some clues there...

Follow me on instagram at wtmcdonaldauthor!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

The first week after Ulfric declared a civil war, the Legion saw five thousand members enlist. Most of my days were spent beating my countrymen into something resembling an army.

Enden, my most competent Legate and dark elf, had the most problems from the men. The racism for their kind still existed in Skyrim. It sickened me.

So when I walked onto the field, the seventh day after the Challenge, and saw blatant insubordination, I decided to do something about it. There was an average nord man, with black hair and brown eyes, laughing in Enden's face while he stood there and stared at him.

I wasted no time in approaching.

"I don't take orders from your fucki…" He never saw my fist hitting his nose.

The nord, whose name I doubted I would ever learn, fell on his ass immediately. His hands were cradling his face before he touched the ground. I stepped back to Enden's side, who wore a slight smirk on his face.

Once the insubordinate nord realized what happened, he leapt to his feet. "Who the fook..?" His words trailed off when he saw me.

I had gained a certain legend as of late. Tales the legion spun of me defeating the first dragonborn in open combat had spread across the land quickly. It didn't matter if it wasn't true. Once someone mentioned the latest gossip there were two things brought up. One was that Ulfric broke the rules of the Challenge. The other was that the battle that ensued was legendary. Ralof, Hadvar, and Ariella saved the High King's life, and fought off the rebellious Jarl.

_I bet the stories go differently in North East Skyrim. Stormcloaks are sure to have spread the story differently. _

"You have a problem taking orders from a Dark Elf, scum?" I asked the insubordinate nord.

I could tell he wanted to deny it. But it seemed he was smart enough to realize that lying was useless at this point.

"He doesn't belong here." The nord said. He proved smarter than I thought when he didn't raise his voice, or leave parade rest.

"Why?" I asked rhetorically. "I swear to to the Aedra, if you say one more fucking word, I will kill you where you stand." My anger was peaking.

I turned to Enden, just as I drew my sword. "Arm." I commanded.

Enden didn't even hesitate and held out his sword arm, not even his off hand. With the King's Blade, I scored a line across his arm. Scarlet colored blood ran down his dark skin immediately. He didn't even flinch.

I moved his arm so that the blood would drip off of his hand and onto the ground beneath us.

"Look at your hand!" I told the nord. He stared at me for a moment, before obeying. Blood from his nose was already drying on the hand.

"Do you both bleed red?" I asked the nord swiftly.

"Yes, sir." The nord replied evenly.

"That's what I fucking thought. The only difference between you and him, is that he's bled for Skyrim and the empire. How many men have you killed for the empire, Enden?" I asked the man.

"Fourteen." Enden replied quickly.

"And you?" I asked the nord.

"Two, for my family." The nord said after a moment of silence.

"A noble deed." I complimented him. Then I pointed the King's Blade at Enden's chest.

"That is your family now." I said, before sheathing the blade on my hip. I drew my magicka, and directed it to Enden. His skin sealed itself with a faint yellow glow, although the dried blood stayed on his arm.

I made a decision right then and there. One I had been pondering the last week. I needed more structure in the Legion.

I sent a small amount of my, now massive, magicka to my throat.

"Men!" I called out.

The sound carried throughout the courtyard of Castle Dour. The sound of men snapping to attention rang out as they gave me their attention.

"I am disappointed!" I told them. "There has been blatant insubordination towards LegateEnden. Nobody has brought this to my attention. Not a single man." I said to everyone. My eyes were on the other legionnaires across the fields.

I was sure they knew what was coming.

"And yet, he is the best officer in this fucking castle. For his hard work, he is promoted to Captain. My second in command for the coming war." I paused for a moment to let the news set in to the others.

I expected disappointment from someone. I expected the other legionnaires to say something, or even shuffle. Their eyes didn't even betray them.

"Any man who disobeys his orders will be punished as the Legion describes. Be fair to him, and he will be fair to you, this I know." I continued.

"Does anybody object?" I asked rhetorically. Naturally, the men around us could sense the mood.

Silence.

* * *

"Are you sure that was wise?"

I stood in front of General Tullius. It was the first time I had seen him since the day after the Challenge. He had been busy writing letters, and making plans for the war.

"Enden would have been my pick, regardless of what happened." I answered truthfully. "And this country has had underlying racism for the other races for sometime now. If he can prove himself capable, it would go a long way for the people."

Tullius nodded to me. "Good. I agree." He told me.

There was a knock on his door.

"Come in." He called out.

Ariella herself walked through the door with Mirabelle Ervine on her hip. No longer did Ariella where the archmage robes. Instead, she wore custom master mage robes. The outer layer was a little bit darker than royal blue with white accents. The robes ran down and split right after her hips, showing the breeches that allowed her greater movement. She wore a golden sash tightly on her hips, pulling the look off. Her golden blonde hair fell down her back beautifully.

She met my eyes and smirked. Apparently I was not subtle with my admiration.

"Hadvar." She greeted. I nodded to her in response.

"You asked for me?" Ariella said, turning her attention to Tullius.

Mirabelle apparently had accompanied Ariella to give Tullius a piece of her mind. "The Archmage is not one you can summon at will!"

Ariella snapped a look toward Mirabelle. "That's enough." Ariella told the woman. Mirabelle acted as if she was already expecting it and turned around. She said what she had to say I guess.

Once Mirabelle left, and the door was once again closed Tullius spoke. "Ralof has sent word. He didn't even bother negotiating. You can have Fort Greymoor."

I was obviously missing a lot of information. Something must have happened while I was busy dealing with the new recruits. Ariella obviously felt my confusion.

"Korir has been threatening my mages still at the College. Claims that the College is his by right. I want my students safe, and away from there." Ariella informed me. "And now, I have somewhere to take them to."

_She's moving the College? _

"You'd abandon the ancestral home of the College?" I couldn't help but ask her. Nord's were nostalgic people by nature. Tradition ruled in Skyrim.

Ariella chuckled. "Absolutely not." She pacified me. "They won't get past the bridge. But I am not there to protect the students, and I am sure Miraak, or even the dark elf, would be able to get through the defenses if he tried. So we will relocate temporarily." Ariella explained.

I saw through that answer quickly. "While also establishing another branch in the heart of Skyrim. Leading to more influence." I deduced. It was a brilliant plan.

And for Ralof, I could see why he would embrace that. If the College was smart, they would use the land around them to their advantage and start mass producing potion supplies. Once they started selling that, Ralof would get the tax revenue and boost his economy immediately. Not to mention, it would go so far towards convincing Nords that magic wasn't bad.

I could see Whiterun becoming an even bigger hub of Skyrim. It was already the biggest city. Arguably the most influential also. It basically already grew all the food for the entire province.

"Exactly." Ariella said. "Everyone wins."

I saw a major flaw in this plan. The main one being that they would have to move the entire library there. Also their artifacts that they have to be drowning in. To do that, they would have to walk out the front door right?

"The only problem is transporting everything." I said. I thought that was the real reason Tullius called me here. Would we capture Winterhold first? Strike deep in their territory? That would be too risky right?

I didn't expect Tullius' response. "Do you know of the Psijic order, Hadvar?" Tullius asked.

I searched the deepest parts of my memory for the answer. "An order of magic users that apparently mastered ...space…" I trailed off as it all hit me.

"They owe me a favor." Ariella said. "And have already agreed to transport everyone in the College to Fort Greymoor as soon as we are ready. They hate debt apparently."

I was tired of being surprised by this world and the changes that were happening in it. Ariella had somehow used the Eye Of Magnus as a bargaining chip. It was the only way they would be in her debt right? What all happened in this world's College of Winterhold's questline?

Suddenly, the answer to why her reserves grew so large in such a small amount of time seemed obvious. It wasn't because of constant overuse. It was because of a staff that you retrieved from Labyrinthian.

The Staff of Magnus.

Ariella was the owner of the fucking Staff Of Magnus.

I didn't realize my head was in my hands until Tullius started speaking again. How did she even have time to go to all these places and do all of these things?

"That gives us a massive tactical advantage." Tullius said, breaking me out of my thoughts. "Suddenly, we don't have to wait for one of our most important allies. You have orders, Hadvar."

I turned to the General, and nodded to him.

Tullius stood up, and moved over to a desk that had been set up in his office since the last time I was there. It was a map of Skyrim, with detailed pieces on it. I followed him over to it.

As I thought, North and North East Skyrim held a lot of Stormcloak sympathy.

"Our spies say that Ulfric and his party did not return to Windhelm. He mobilised his army before he even left for the challenge. They wait for him on the edge of Eastmarch. He wants Falkreath, so that he can cut us off from our supplies. That can not happen." Tullius explained. It seemed to match up with what the games portrayed also, so I didn't question it.

"So we march to Falkreath?" I asked.

"You will head to Rorikstead and meet with Igmund. He's bringing the men you trained. You'll combine them with three thousand of your best trained here. Lead them to Helgen and you'll wait. I trust your judgement, but don't lose that army, they're the best trained in the province right now." Tullius told me.

Immediately I knew that I would take Tullius' place at the start of the games. Although I knew that the battle would be entirely different from the small skirmish that happened at the beginning of the famous game.

"And you?" I asked, wanting to know all of the plans.

Tullius pointed to the closest city of Stormcloak supporters. "I will meet with Idgrod and his forces with the bulk of our army and take Dawnstar, and then Winterhold."

I saw the sense in plan. In the games, it was just him fighting this war. Now he had me, and another well trained force to take advantage of. Tullius would cut a bloody swath across North Skyrim, capturing territory and boxing Ulfric in. Ralof, Ariella, and I would war with Ulfric across the center and southern parts of the province.

I doubted Ulfric stood a chance with our armies. We were too well trained, and had two large forces ready to go. At best, Ulfric had one army. I was sure that would change shortly, but it would be too late.

I was only worried about one thing: Dragons.

That's why I thought that I had the biggest part of the war. I had to get rid of Miraak, and fast. I didn't know if he had taught Ulfric how to bend the will of dragons yet. But I was willing to put money on Miraak being able to. What if he bent the will of Alduin? The world ender?

Or worse.

What if he killed Alduin? And devoured the soul of Akatosh's firstborn child.

How much more powerful would he become?

Ulfric wasn't even the main threat. I didn't even care if Ulfric was in fact the dragonborn. There was a much older, and more experienced dragonborn I had to deal with first.

I nodded to Tullius.

"I'll leave in the morning."

* * *

"Were you leaving without saying goodbye?"

I was busy putting all of my most important belongings in the saddlebags on my horse when I heard Ariella's voice. I don't know why, but I was happy she wanted me to tell her goodbye.

"I thought you were coming with." I said with a smirk as I turned around.

Ariella frowned, as if I wasn't supposed to know. "How did you know?"

That was obvious to me. "Alduin. There is no way you wouldn't be there." I answered truthfully.

If that wasn't a good enough answer, her sitting on top of a beautiful horse with all of her entourage, minus J'zargo, behind her. I already knew that the destruction obsessed cat would accompany Tullius and lend his magick towards the war effort.

There was a chance that Tullius encountered some magick users in his campaign. He needed protection. Plus, J'zargo would be a huge asset on a battlefield.

"Well, I would be careful mentioning that so casually." She said looking around to the men waiting on me to hop up on my horse.

It was nice being in charge. Everyone waited on you. But there was a war to fight, So I eventually just climbed up in the saddle.

"Let's go."

* * *

Traveling with Ariella was an invaluable resource.

I did the same thing I had when I traveled with Jarl Igmund to the Battle of Druadach, I read books that I brought with me on the journey. Lets just say that it was hard for me to choose which ones I valued more from my tower in Castle Dour.

I mostly focused on Illusion, Alteration, and Restoration during the day. I would be a fool to give up my biggest advantage over my opponents. That was, of course, my emotional manipulation of my men and those around me.

So when I had questions about how to manipulate my magicka properly, Ariella was there to guide me to the answer. She never outright showed me spells. She always gave me hints and clues that would lead me to an obvious answer. Then I would feel dumb about not discovering it on the first try. She was a fantastic teacher.

When she saw how I used Illusion, I could tell I gained a lot of respect in her eyes. A lot of lights went off in her head when I did that.

I woke up, had breakfast, got on the back of a horse, and we traveled. I would take breaks from reading, and ride up and down the army, checking on men, receiving reports from scouts, etc.

At night, after dinner, I would exhaust myself casting Mages Downfall. Then I would meditate until my reserves filled up, and I would exhaust them before going to bed. The whole time I would move through sword forms.

Each night, I would hold the spell a little longer. When I woke the next day, I could feel how my magicka grew. It didn't seem like it would be enough. I still felt so far away from being able to match Miraak, Ulfric, the Dark Elf, or Ralof in single combat. But still, I trained and trained.

One thing I did notice with my increasing reserves, was that healing was becoming easier, shields were bigger and more solid, and my illusion spells took hold on my men faster. Overall, casting started to become much easier.

Magicians around me started to respect me more. I even had a few comments on how quickly I was growing. I would have been a fool not to pick their brains about certain spells.

I made it a point to dispose of bandit hide-outs along the way to keep the men in fighting shape. The local population would also think better of the Legion for it. Even if we did travel through mostly Imperial supporting land.

With every town we traveled through, we picked up a few men. Most were young men, looking for glory. The men took them in, and trained them up. I needed another few months with them to truly get them into fighting shape, but I didn't have the time and we needed the men.

When we reached Rorikstead, we had gained another two-hundred men along the way. Then I got to see my favorite person in the world.

Captain Loren.

* * *

A/N: Boom!

I know, I know, a really short chapter. But I debated and debated on the next scene for a while and have decided that I am not going to write it. It just doesn't fit in the chapter in my opinion, too many things happening. So next week should have a longer chapter than normal for sure.

I would like to say that this is very Hadvar centric, and I will not be including other pov's. I did Ariella's pov a while back, but that is probably going to be a very rare thing.

And I get a lot of people saying that they feel like Hadvar is weaker than the rest of the Si/OC's but I disagree. In terms of personal power, then y'all are right, Hadvar is weaker. But overall ...he has an army at his beck and call.

Sure, Ralof has the companions, and Ariella has the College. But those are small groups of people compared to the raw numbers Hadvar has. So overall power and influence, i would put Hadvar near the top compared to the rest of the OC's.

Anyway. Let's discuss this in the reviews. Do we agree on that? Or do you guys think that is off?


	19. Act II: Chapter 9

Hello everyone,

Back with another chapter! Don't have a lot to talk about today, so I guess we'll just get straight into it.

Authors note at the bottom!

Follow me on instagram at wtmcdonaldauthor!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

Rorikstead was, perhaps, the most underrepresented town in the games.

It was not a small little town. It was a bustling town, about two industries away from becoming a city. It was obvious that it was a popular trading route for western Skyrim. Technically it was a part of Whiterun hold, but it sat on the border.

Along the main road of the city, there were three different inn's, and a couple of storefronts for the essentials in life. Two master blacksmith's populated the town. One hammered on armor and weapons. The other fashioned nails, chains, and other essential metal tools necessary for life. They had an unspoken agreement not to encroach on the others specialties.

One would assume that the blacksmith dealing in weapons would be busier than the other, with the looming civil war on the horizon. But I watched just as many craftsmen travel into the shop and pick up repaired tools, or new nails, or a new hatchet. There was balance in Rorikstead.

At least before we arrived.

"How long do you plan to be here?" Rorik himself asked me.

He was dressed as a typical nobleman in Skyrim. His fur was fresh off of a bear somewhere, and stitched professionally together. My memories told me he was also a soldier in the Great War. His eyes tightened when he looked up at me on my horse.

I swung a leg off of my steed, and landed on the ground with a thud. My legs screamed at me from riding all day, but with a burst of magicka, my ailments were cured swiftly.

"Has Igmund arrived yet?" I asked the 'mayor' of Rorikstead. His most accurate title would be landowner of this town. He wasn't a dumb man, that much was obvious.

"Jarl Igmund is about a day away." Rorik answered.

As soon as I cleared the hill that would lead me into the town, Rorik stood in the middle of the road, waiting for me. Behind him was a man in steel armor with a sharp sword on his hip, and an even sharper look in his eye. I knew Rorik kept his ear to the ground and paid close attention to the goings on of his town. That's what prompted me to ask the question of the Jarl of Markarth.

I already knew the answer, of course. It was just a small test for the man in front of me.

"When he arrives, assuming he doesn't wish to stay, we will be on our way." I answered Rorik, finally.

Rorik sighed audibly. "Gods be damned! You'll be here a month if Igmund has his way." Rorik said, obviously unhappy. Igmund's reputation was well known, it seemed.

"I cannot control the Jarl." I told him truthfully. "But I do control the Legion, and we'll leave in three days at the latest."

Rorik regarded me with a curious look. There was no doubt in my mind he had heard of me, and knew who he talked to. Maybe I was some foolish young nord to him.

Rorik nodded and made to turn around. He stopped himself though, and turned back to me.

"Young women work at our Inn's, Battlemage. If I get a mention of wandering hands, or Talos forbid it, something worse, I'll geld the bastard who does it." Rorik said as a warning.

"I'll do it myself." I told him, completely agreeing with that assessment.

Once again, Rorik eyed me curiously. I couldn't help but wonder what he was looking for. The look continued for a couple of moments. Not enough to make me uncomfortable, but enough to make note of it.

"Will you be hunting for food?" Rorik asked.

I knew why he was asking the question. An army marches on its stomach, and I had a lot of mouths to feed. But that was one of the best aspects of the Legion, our supply lines. Food came in a steady stream from the capital. I had enough supplies to make it to Helgen and back to Solitude.

I had a suspicion it was because Skyrim, barring High Rock, was the empire's most prosperous province. The emperor was not a dumb man either. This Civil War was a training ground for his army. I suspect it was why he even dared to encroach on our traditions in the first place, with the White-Gold Concordat banning the worship of Talos, and then his decree for the Challenge between Ulfric and Torygg. Did the emperor see Skyrim as his savior, all those years ago when he signed the peace agreement?

"No. We won't become a burden on your people. That I promise." I told the man. My respect for Rorik went up a notch.

He was worried about his people. What happens if an army marches through your town? There are so many possibilities.

If it is a traditional army, they come through and take the young men off to fight with them. That type of army will take more than that. The soldiers will take women, most of the time, without their consent. They'll act as tyrants on the local population.

They'll want the local blacksmith to repair all their armor and weapons for free. Then they'll kill him when his daughter shows up with a black eye and he confronts the man who did it.

The army will hunt the local area for food, killing off the main source of food for the town, and the hunters who feed the town will have to move on.

That was not my army.

My army will feed itself, from it's own lands. We'll patrol the places we visit, remove bandit hideouts, and offer protection to the towns we pass through. We won't take young men, but we will accept them. We won't put them in the front lines, but rather foster them into a proper soldier and more importantly, a man with discipline. We'll pay him properly, so that when he returns home he is a functioning man of society with something to offer the world.

Just as Tiber Septim did.

"Good. You can have the fields over there." Rorik said before breaking eye contact and walking away, back into his town. His hand was pointing off to the left of us.

I turned to where Enden sat on his horse. "You heard him, let's set up camp."

Enden nodded to me, before turning his horse around to follow my orders. I turned to my most constant companion on this march across Skyrim, Ariella. She sat on her horse still, looking around at the town and other things in the distance.

"It always surprises me." I commented. I had a feeling I knew what she was thinking.

"Everything is so much bigger, much more full of life." Ariella said, confirming that I did know what she was talking about. I grunted something that sounded like an agreement.

I realized that I had yet to ask about her time at the College of Winterhold. I never heard her describe it before. I hopped up on my horse again before replying.

"Is it the same way at the College?" I asked curiously.

Ariella smiled a little, and she got a far off look. "Yes. There are so many more students. Right before I left, we were supposed to start teaching the children of Winterhold. It would have been an amazing opportunity, for magick and education in general." She said reminiscing.

"The towers are taller than the… than what you would expect." Ariella said, catching herself from referring to the 'games'. "And the grounds are massive. We have entire wings of housing that we aren't using. It's potential is enormous."

I smiled, as a picture of the College made itself known in my mind. "You'll have the opportunity again." I tried to comfort her a little.

Ariella's smile withered. "I'm not so sure. The Stormcloak influence runs deep in Winterhold. As does the prejudice against magick."

That was fairly true, but I couldn't help but think that after this war, there will be a cultural revolution in Skyrim. Or rather, views on certain subjects will be reinforced, and others will be changed completely. Something in my gut told me it wouldn't just be in Skyrim.

"Well, then we'll have to start at Whiterun, and go from there." I told her simply, hoping to cheer her up a little bit. I knew she would catch on to the 'we'.

"We?" Ariella asked with a smirk and a look. I was not as slick as I thought I was apparently. That was just fine with me.

I just shrugged, and tugged on my horse's reins.

"I'll need something to do after this war." I answered.

Ariella didn't answer right away. I saw her eyes were fixed on the thousands of men marching into our new campsite. Her magicians were already busy setting up their own camps. Wooden beams were levitated and shoved into the ground with too much ease, and much too quickly. I saw my men look enviously at how efficient Ariella's people were.

I was always envious of the interior of their tents. It was nothing too impressive, just the most comfortable beds in the world. I had been trying to get the enchantment for that off of her since I felt the glorious material. Most of our meetings take place in those tents. Not only for the comfortability of the seating, but also because of the temperature enchantments on the interior. My Legate's seemed to love it there.

"The war might be the least of our problems." Ariella said. I knew she was talking about Alduin, the world-ender.

I have to admit that I am also very worried about the threat. If everyone else was so overpowered, how would the first-born of Akatosh impact the world. I still have yet to come up with a solution to him. Or really, dragons in general, I didn't have a solution to. I wasn't sure if there was a solution.

"Maybe. But something tells me that it isn't the Civil War, or Alduin, or Miraak that is our biggest threat." I told her truthfully. None of those problems appear as too big of a threat. Somehow I was supremely confident we would triumph over them. There was something lurking in the background, laying in wait, to see the outcome of the events happening in Skyrim.

Ariella looked at me curiously when I said that. It was the first time we really discussed this type of thing in any depth. Most of the time we talked about magick, and it's wonders.

"I don't know why I consider the Aldmeri dominion as the biggest threat." I revealed truthfully. I couldn't understand why my gut told me to worry over the High Elves in the background. It was perplexing.

"You need to focus then." Ariella said with a berating tone. "We have issues that need our attention immediately."

"Trust me, I have tried." I replied truthfully. "And I am giving it my full attention, I promise."

Ariella eyed me warily. She obviously didn't believe me.

"We'll see."

* * *

"Hadvar! It's good to see you!"

I didn't expect that reaction from Igmund, I'll admit. I took it in stride though, and embraced him in a hug. It wouldn't do to deny a Jarl that shows you such affection.

"It is good to see you also, Jarl Igmund." I replied respectfully.

"Bah, enough of the 'Jarl' shite. I didn't get to see you nearly enough as I wanted to in Solitude. Tullius is working you properly isn't he." Igmund jumped right into conversation as if we hadn't spent time away from each other, like a true nord would. I suspected it was because there were very few people he respected. I just happen to be on that list.

"Aye, he is!" I agreed as I gestured to the man beside me. Rorik stood beside me in the middle of the road leading to his town waiting patiently for his time to speak.

Now was that time. "Jarl Igmund, Rorikstead is yours." Rorik said respectfully.

The Jarl's entire demeanor changed. Igmund looked the man up and down, much the same way he did to me the first time we met. That seemed like so long ago, when in reality it hadn't been a full year since I was dragged in front of him for stopping the cannibalists in the crypts of Markarth. Life was much easier then.

"I have heard good things about you Rorik." Jarl Igmund said, continuing to eye the man. Rorik held his gaze, easily.

"I will ask the same question I asked the Battlemage." Rorik said, gesturing to me. "How long do you plan to stay in Rorikstead?"

The question was a bold one, there was no doubt about it. I knew he was doing it out of concern for his people, but this was a Jarl he was speaking to. Igmund didn't outwardly react.

Before he could respond, I decided to speak up.

"I told Rorik that we would leave tomorrow, Igmund." I said to direct the attention elsewhere.

Igmund looked directly at me, and his mouth twisted slightly. "Of course, we have a schedule to keep. And a war to win. Not all of us have the luxury of staying home, warm and cuddled next to our wife." Igmund agreed, while throwing massive shade at Rorik.

"I did my duty to Skyrim in the Great War, with your fath…"

I grabbed Rorik's shoulder and pulled. I stepped between him and Igmund quickly.

The man with a sharp eye, who was always beside Rorik, moved with me. The sound of a sword barely moving from its sheath hit my ears. Rorik's hand stopped his bodyguard quickly, but he did not move away from me. I ignored him.

"That is enough. We will leave in the morning. Your town will be untouched. Is that not enough? Or would you like to disrespect the Jarl a little more?"

Rorik's jaw clenched, and I wondered what he held against Igmund. Or rather, I wonder what Igmund did to him.

"That is more than enough Battlemage." Rorik said.

I never thought I'd see the day where a man would be more respectful to me, than a Jarl of Skyrim. It was perplexing. Maybe it was because I made sure to march my men until sundown yesterday so that they were too tired to stir any trouble up in town. In fact, the few that had ventured to the Inn's, were very respectful if the Innkeeper's were to be believed. Perhaps Rorik was just a man who valued actions over titles?

"Good. Now I think it would be a good idea if you tended to your duties today." I offered the man. I silently thanked Talos when Rorik obeyed me and turned around to walk back towards the town.

His sharp eyed bodyguard walked backwards, following him and glaring at me. Once he felt like he got his message off, he too turned around.

"You speak for me now, Hadvar?" Igmund asked, with a tone that did not match the one from our greeting.

"Of course not, my Jarl. I speak for the Legion." I told him with a slight bow.

I couldn't help but notice Thren's smug look from atop his horse behind the Jarl. I ignored it.

"Show me the grounds."

* * *

"Sir."

I looked up from the book in my hands, to where Enden stood at the front of the tent. Ariella did the same.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Igmund is at the Inn." Enden said simply.

I sighed, a very deep sigh, knowing what that meant. He was drunk, and intentionally antagonizing Rorik. I stood up after a moment.

"Igmund is Jarl." Ariella told me, as she too stood up after closing her book.

I just shot her a look out of the side of my eye. It said, 'are you coming'. She picked up on the look and smirked at me.

I started striding towards the middle of town fairly quickly. My heart rate started to increase. I had a choice to make.

Do I stop Igmund? Can I?

I told Rorik that nobody from the Legion would cause any type of ruckus in the town. The Jarl stood outside of my jurisdiction. Igmund was Jarl of Markarth. Truthfully, I had no right to command him to do anything. Neither did Rorik.

But I told Rorik this wouldn't happen.

And, if I didn't stop Igmund now, at the first stop along our journey across Skyrim, what kind of precedent would that set? He could single handedly set the population of Skyrim against us because of his actions.

That is what caused me to make up my mind on what I was going to do.

When I opened the door to the Inn, I was assaulted with the sound of an alright voice singing a familiar tune only a nord would recognize. I barely registered the lyrics. The stale smell of ale, mead, and liquors assaulted my nose.

Igmund's roaring laughter hit my ears immediately. He was in the far corner of the bar, with at least ten empty mugs in front of him, and a nord girl on his lap. I say girl, and by that I mean that she couldn't have been older than fifteen.

This is common in Skyrim. Nothing out of the ordinary. I could have gone right up, and joined him in groping her, and the other girls working the inn and nobody would have batted an eye. But the look on her face, pure terror. She didn't care that he was Jarl of Markarth. All she wanted was to get off of his lap and quit her job, no doubt.

This reinforced my decision.

There were ten of my men total in the bar. One group of four sat at a table, talking a bit loudly and drinking their fair share. The other group had five men, doing the same and playing a card game.

Neither of these groups dared touch the women in the place, even if their eyes lingered on the girls' backsides a little more than they should.

The last one of my men sat directly beside Igmund, with a girl on his lap also.

Captain Thren.

I smirked, knowing that this was a man I could command, and had every right too.

I noticed all of this in the few seconds it took for the bard to recognize me. His singing, and playing, stopped suddenly. It reminded me of a scene out of a western, when an outlaw walks in.

Then my men noticed me.

Everyone but Captain Thren in the back of the room stood up, sending their chairs skidding behind them. They snapped to attention quickly, startling a couple tables of locals.

"Get some rest, men." I ordered and they scattered out of the door behind me quickly abandoning their drinks. I made a note in my mind to tip the barkeep and the girls before I left.

"Hadvar!" Igmund's voice was one of a very very drunk man. There is a difference when nord's get drunk, and the other races get drunk.

There was no slurring of words when nords got drunk. One minute, they are clear eyed and clear faced. The next, they are red eyed and red faced. Their veins break out of their thick skin, and it looks like they could start a brawl at any minute. Most of the time, that is exactly what happens.

Igmund was very drunk. As was Thren.

I looked to the locals in the inn. "Citizens of Rorikstead. It is getting late, your homes call for you. Don't worry about your drinks, it is on the legion tonight." I said much more softly than I did to my own men.

I expected the townspeople to make a fuss about it, but surprisingly, everyone that didn't work at the establishment left fairly quickly. They weren't nearly as quick about it as my men were, but they left all the same. Maybe they could sense that I wasn't here to enjoy myself for the night. I was happy that Rorik himself hadn't shown up yet.

Once it was just Thren, Igmund, Ariella, Enden, and I, I moved towards Igmund's table.

The girls in their laps looked at me pleadingly.

Igmund and Thren looked at me angrily now. They understood what I was doing, and my stance on what was happening. In their eyes, it must have looked like I was siding with Rorik over the argument earlier.

"Get up girls, go home. When you come back in the morning, you'll receive a generous tip for taking care of these two strong nord men." I told them without room for argument. They tried to obey me, but grabby hands pulled them back down onto the laps of their assaulters.

"Fuck you, Hadvar. Go to bed, and I'll forget this ever happened." Igmund said. If I didn't know better, I would have called him sober when he said it. I didn't care.

I felt a _rolling _of magicka behind me. Ariella was getting pissed.

"You stand with this milk-drinker, Enden?" Captain Thren said with a booming laugh. Apparently they were familiar with each other from their time in Solitude together.

"He is a good man." Enden said evenly, no room for bullshit.

"Captain Thren, on your fucking feet right now!" I used my 'general' voice for that, and skillfully moved my magicka to his body. It was hard to miss the girl in his lap.

Some might think I would send 'fear' into his body, but that wouldn't do. I saw an opportunity and I was going for it. I sent 'courage' into him, and hid my smile behind smoldering eyes.

Thren lifted the girl off of his lap immediately. Once she was clear, I went to work.

I grabbed him by his throat and shoved. He practically flew off of his feet into the wall behind him. I was on top of him quickly, beating his face in. By the fourth punch, his jaw cracked and he lost consciousness.

I could have kept going, but I didn't. The thought of hitting him until he stopped breathing was so enticing, it was hard to ignore. Instead I jumped off of his body, with blood on my knuckles and looked straight to Igmund.

Igmund stared at me nonchalantly, as if he didn't care that his friend was now bleeding and broken on the floor. I held his eyes for a good moment and tried to get the message off as best I could.

Igmund's eyes glanced down to the sword on my waist. It sparked a memory in me. Flashes of Torygg offering me the King's Blade flew in front of my eyes.

Of course I could order Igmund to obey my rules. In the eyes of tradition, anything pertaining to the war was my jurisdiction now. That was a bit of a grey area as to whether or not it allowed me dominion over Jarl's but it was just enough of a grey area to let me get away with this.

"You'll get up now, Igmund. And you'll go to bed. In the morning, we march for Helgen." I told him.

Enden moved behind me and picked up Thren's unconscious body after checking for signs of life. He was alive, although he would hurt for the next month. Especially after what I had in mind for him in the morning. Enden moved to the door. When he opened it, he found nine legionnaires standing outside the door acting like they hadn't heard anything. He handed them the unconscious body of Thren and gave orders before walking back inside.

Igmund let go of the girl. She jumped up and scampered out to the kitchen of the inn quickly. I heard the sounds of other girls fussing over her but ignored them.

Igmund stood up, and without saying a word he walked past me and out the door. On the way out, he turned and spat in my direction. I didn't react.

When the door to the inn closed, the tension in my body left and my eyes unconsciously sought Ariella's. I don't know what I was looking for, but what I found in her eyes was reassurance and that was perfect.

There was a knock near the bar. Both of us looked to the sound to see two mugs of mead sitting there. Ariella and I locked eyes again, and she smiled widely. The words were just about to leave my lips, but she beat me to it.

"How bout a drink?"

* * *

A/N: Boom!

This may seem like an out of place chapter, but it has purpose for the story in the future, promise.

The last time something like this happened, it was Igmund raping and pillaging his way through Druadach. Some of the reviewers thought it was his right, as conqueror. I suspect those same people will object to Hadvar's interference in the Jarl's actions. I don't care what time period, or what universe you're in. A fifteen year old girl is a fifteen year old girl regardless of maturity level. I wouldn't stand for it, period. So Hadvar won't.

What did we think?

Let's talk in the reviews!


	20. Act II: Chapter 10

Hello everyone,

Moving into a new house today, from my apartment of three years. It's a bittersweet feeling, let me tell you what. Lots of memories made in this apartment, and there will be more to come in the house. Anyway, enough about me, how is everyone's life going?

You know the best advice I ever got was?

'Life is chaos.'

Once you really break that down, and start to believe it, you'll start expecting the trials life throws at you. After you go through these trials, you'll realize that we are much stronger than we could ever possibly imagine. Don't let the trials break you, just accept them as life and beat those fucking trials into the ground.

Hold your head up high, square your shoulders, and look the devil in the eye.

Enough motivational talk, on to the chapter!

Follow me on instagram at wtmcdonaldauthor!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

The best possible application for Restoration is for a hangover.

That was exactly how I spent the first five minutes of my morning, the day after Igmund acting out in Rorikstead. Ariella and I had our fair share of alcohol. As a nord, that was saying a lot. Something in the back of my mind told me to watch out for cows.

_What is that about? Cows? _

I shook my head and got out of bed. Thank Talos there was nobody else laying around in the sheets. I would have broken my own rule. Rorik, and Imgund would both call for my head. They wouldn't get it of course, but it would be very very bad.

I quickly donned my, now signature, gambeson that was gifted to me by Calcelmo. My mind strayed to wonder what he was up to. Most likely, it involved the Dwemer somehow.

I walked outside my tent, to find that the sun was very close to peaking it's head out over the horizon. Legionnaires marched around me. Some were finishing their morning march, some were headed to take down tents and load them in the carts for our 'engineers'. Fancy term for labor.

I decided that was a good idea, and for the first time in this life, I began to take my own tent apart. The only difference was that I cheated and used magick. It was ridiculously easy and efficient. I was done in a few minutes.

Enden found me after I finished.

"We have set up the whipping post, and are awaiting your judgement." Enden told me as soon as he got within talking distance.

"Good morning to you too." I greeted the dunmer. Enden nodded at me, but did not return the phrase. "How many lashes do you think?" I asked him curiously. I already had the number in my head, but I wanted to know what he thought.

"Ten sounds efficient enough. One of the College healed his jaw, and a few other fractures around his face." Enden said uncaringly. He did not think very highly of Thren it seemed. My respect for the dunmer went up slightly.

"Agreed, will you do it?" I asked Enden, curious if he wanted the offer.

He let out a faint smirk. "Of course, Battlemage." Enden said before turning slightly, and motioning for me to follow. I obliged, and soon we ran into a crowd of legionnaires. The overwhelming majority of them looked at me with respect, and snapped to attention as we passed. A few gave me smoldering looks. It was inevitable that Thren would win over some of the men in Markarth after my departure. I knew that I still held more influence there, however.

Soon, we made our way through the crowd, where Thren was already tied to a whipping post with his back bared to us. I stepped forward to give the punishment quickly.

"For disobeying my orders of good behavior during our stay in Rorikstead, I sentence Captain Thren to ten lashes." I said, and paused to let the crowd adjust to the news before I dropped the real news of the morning. This was something I planned ever since I saw him sitting next to Igmund in that Inn.

"I strip Captain Thren of his position over the guard of Markarth and demote him to Legate for his actions."

A murmur swept over the crowd of disciplined men surrounding us. Clinks of armor shook and also rang out. I expected roars. I took it as a good sign.

"Legate Brun is now promoted to Captain, and will assume his duties. Carry out the sentence." I commanded with a slight grin and stepped to the side.

I didn't see the first lash, but I heard it and Captain Thren's moan of pain. A much louder murmur went through the crowd this time, as everyone started talking about the news. They weren't even paying attention to the man who was receiving his second lash. Brun's promotion was definitely a political play by me. That was a man loyal to me, and to the discipline I instilled to him.

Thren provided a great opportunity. The first, and most useful is the example I get to set to anyone who steps out of line during our march across Skyrim. If this could happen to a Captain, then nobody was safe. The second was getting to reward Brun for his time spent underneath me in Markarth. I had confidence in his abilities and the men respected him.

Thren didn't make it past lash number seven before he passed out. A part of me felt pity. A part called him a pussy. That wasn't really fair, considering I was using magick to offset both the impact and pain of the lashings he subjected me to. Wasn't my fault he didn't learn any magick after seeing how useful it could be in my hands.

"Brutish." I heard a feminine, but stern voice say beside me.

Mirabelle Ervine was standing there, watching the man be carried off to whoever decided to heal him yesterday. Something in my mind, considered the woman beside me as the main candidate for Thren's miraculous recovery from a broken jaw.

"Yes." I agreed with her. It was a bit brutish. "But effective."

She smirked slightly, and then nodded before turning and following the men carrying Thren. That told me she was, in fact, the College member responsible for healing Thren. But her reaction told me she approved of my punishment. She seemed the type of woman to see motivations behind people. That would explain why Ariella keeps her around, despite her vocal disrespect of the woman.

_To Helgen. Let the road be smoother._

* * *

From Rorikstead, we traveled southeast across Skyrim.

The schedule didn't change much. Wake up, march, lunch, march, dinner, and then exhaust myself with Mages Downfall. I stopped keeping up with my progress about two weeks after Rorikstead. All I knew was that I had a long way to go and three minutes was not long enough.

Luckily, it was an uneventful march, if long. Our numbers continued to swell with new members. Young nords, in search of glory and Sovngarde. I too still wanted to dine in Shor's hall, but I did not wish to see it anytime soon. I couldn't understand my people's obsession with death.

Truly, it was no different in my past life. Was I religious, absolutely. But in the world I found myself in, Sovngarde was all but guaranteed. You got to visit it, as the Dragonborn and recruit warrior of old to your cause. Plus, I was still a nord, and the prospect of Sovngarde called to me. I suppose it was natural of me to want peace at the end of everything.

Ariella and I talked on the subject often as we traveled.

What we never talked about was our past lives. We didn't even talk about our past in this life, until we reached Lake Ilinalta.

There were few warnings along the road that we were about to pass one of the biggest bodies of water in Tamriel. I knew that we had been traveling around the massive lake, but the road must have kept us around two or three miles off seeing it.

When we finally did, it was glorious.

I could see it through the trees as we passed a bend in the road. The light from the sun glittered off of it's surface and hit me in the eyes a couple of times, when it shouldn't have been able to. Finally, we came to a point in the road that bordered the massive lake.

And unlike the game map, there was a bustling town along the road. My memories told me it was right about where the lakeview manor should have been. Once again, the games did not do this world justice.

Mountains hung over the opposite side of the lake. I knew that same mountain range would run all the way back to my hometown, Riverwood. Pine trees surrounded the lake, reminding me of my past life.

And there was a little port, right there beside the road on the way to Helgen. I wondered how the hell a lake could support enough fishing for there to be an industry here. Is that even possible? I knew there was a river that extended from the lake and ran all the way to the ocean but still…

We set up camp on the side of the lake, and the men took the opportunity provided to them and explored the water. Some bathed, some just swam, and some purchased fishing equipment for dinner that night.

I was just about to undress and go to bed, when there was a knock at the front of my tent.

"Come in." I called out, without bothering to stand up.

Ariella walked in, dressed as she normally did. Her blonde hair was in an elegant braid that fell down her back. In her hand, she had what looked to be two wine bottles. I couldn't help but smile at what this meant.

"Nobody wants to drink with me." Ariella whined.

I laughed at the sight of her pouting with two wine bottles in her hand. Why not just one wine bottle? Because that wouldn't be enough of course.

"That's because the last time you drank, you pushed over a sleeping cow." I accused.

She got a look of betrayal on her face and pointed a wine bottle at me. "That's because you told me to! I didn't even know what cow tipping was!"

I continued to laugh at the memory of that night in Rorikstead. It took a couple of days on the road for Enden to bring up that particular night and what happened. Apparently Ariella and I drank entirely too much and I introduced her to a past time of the South United States. Really it was just a really old game nobody played anymore. And it was funny as hell to push a cow over. Kind of fucked up though.

"Nords value cows more than you can imagine." I told her in a serious tone.

"The people of Rorikstead hate me because of you." Ariella said in a whiny tone again.

I just shrugged and stood up before walking over to her. She gave me the death stare as I approached, but still handed me the bottle as I got to her. It was in a fairly fancy looking bottle.

"So what now?" I asked with a grin.

* * *

Apparently, accepting the wine meant that we were not going to be sitting in my tent drinking it, but rather going out by the lake.

"I spent all day here." Ariella said as she reached her destination.

We traveled north from my tent, through the forest surrounding the lake to this piece of elevated land. It was a cliff about thirty feet taller than the top of the water and when you got past the forest, it was mainly just stone.

The magelight she had above her head disappeared when I entered the clearing, and everything went dark. I summoned my magicka quickly and directed it to my eyes.

One good thing about being on the road, is that I got more magickal studying in than I ever could.

The world lit up as my eyes shifted to mimic how a cat would see during the night. It was an interesting experience, because while I could make out shapes during the spell, my actual vision deteriorated significantly.

I quickly saw where the edge of the cliff was and made my way over to where Ariella was starting to sit down with her feet dangling off the edge. I joined her.

"That seems like an amazing thing to do." I commented as I cut off the flow of magicka to my eyes.

"It was relaxing." Ariella said. "It reminds me of High Rock actually."

I took another drink out of my bottle of wine. I could have sworn that I was drinking faster than she was, but every time I looked down I saw a little bit more was gone from her bottle. It seemed a bit fishy, but I did not comment.

"Never been. Is it anything like Markarth?" I asked a little ignorantly. The city does sit very close to the border after all.

"Mmm the Reach does extend into High Rock, and there are many clans of people there. Most notably is Orsinium, although it is nothing like it's previous reincarnations. Not very fond of outsiders, I must admit." Ariella commented as she looked up at the stars. "At least, that's what mother said."

Ariella looked to sober up slightly at that thought, and then took a big swig of her wine. I didn't comment, and instead waited for her to continue.

"The province gets more and more Bretonish as you move west. I can't speak much of the other states, but Glenumbra was my favorite. It is so beautiful there. There is this massive forest of Beldama Wyrd trees that cover the forest floor. The fauna that grow underneath that haven are just as beautiful and deadly. At the center is the Beldama Wyrd Tree, I know… original name." Ariella threw that last part in after I gave her a look.

"The forest disappears as you move even further west into Daggerfall. Mostly grassland to the west until you hit Daggerfall and the ocean. North is Hag Fen, home to a bunch of hags. Can't say we haven't tried to rid ourselves of those menaces." Ariella paused once again to look up at the stars. "At least that is what mother claimed."

I hadn't planned to comment on her mother, it seemed like a sore subject. But, I did anyway.

"You miss her." I summed up simply.

Ariella nodded to me and took another swig of her wine.

"I didn't know my parents well enough to miss them. Both of them died in the Great War, at least that's what they told me." I commented, trying to relate somehow to her. "My uncle and aunt took me in, Dorthe must be coming into her own by now."

I could only barely picture her face, it had been so long since I last tried. "Might even be forging by now. She was so adamant when I left, but could only swing a hammer a couple of times before she tired out. Uncle Al always had a lumpy piece of iron afterwards. Still, he'd praise her for her work while she sulked. He used to turn them into swords or daggers and let her name them. I think she's named the last two thousand items to come out of that smith." I said with a smile. I took a swig of wine and looked to Ariella.

She was staring at me. One knee was brought to her chest, and her head was resting on it, looking at me. I winked at her and looked back to the sky.

The past few months, I had become spoiled to the view Skyrim provided. Out here in the wild, with no cities casting light pollution, you could truly look into the sky and see stars. It was one of the most beautiful things I had ever seen.

"I never had any siblings." Ariella said. "Only a few friends that turned into acquaintances, and now strangers. Mother was always there for me. She taught me everything." She paused for a moment.

I didn't talk, instead just let her gather her thoughts. I did almost memorize the information however. Anything about her past, I was quick to latch on to. It was a habit I picked up in my last life about people I cared about.

"Before…" She paused again and gestured to the world around us and then herself. "...this, I was a victim. Could never get ahead, always looking for someone to blame. When I got _here_, mother beat that out of me pretty quickly. Not literally of course!" Ariella corrected herself.

_She's talking about before her transmigration, she was a victim. _

That was the first bit of information of who Ariella was before she got here. And the way she talked, it seemed like she had been here for a while. Much longer than myself if I had to guess. More information filed away.

"Taught me my first spell, it was the equivalent to a lighter." Ariella laughed as she said that.

I couldn't imagine her creating such a small flame. Instead, I imagined her raining down suns of flame on her enemies. She had definitely grown since then.

"When she saw how advanced I was… well she made sure to drag every ounce of potential out of me." Ariella continued.

"I probably shouldn't ask." I started, but we were close enough that I could ask the question without offending her. "But was your mother Altmer?" I asked curiously.

Ariella smiled and nodded to me. "Full blooded." She clarified. "Fell in love with a damn nord too, who would've known."

That shocked me, but explained Ariella's height and build. Altmer seemed to be a little slimmer, naturally. It was obvious to me that Ariella was more ...developed than normal. Also she was closer to nord pale than Altmer pale. Her hair did scream otherworldly though. Now that I thought about it, she resembled Snow Elves more than Altmer.

"He died in the Great War too. Never knew him. The Aldmeri thought it ironic that a nord fought and died for them. My mother cursed her homeland for that." Ariella said a little morbidly. I could actually see the Altmer doing that, now that I thought about it. "Fled to High Rock, got caught up in court politics until she too, was killed."

And that was what I was waiting for. A part of me knew that Ariella's mother was dead, just by the way she referred to her. I wanted to say sorry, or something, but it always felt hollow saying that about someone you never knew. Instead, I just stayed still as she leaned against me and laid her head on my shoulder.

Her bottle clattered on the stone around her, empty. I hadn't even noticed her drink the rest of it, maybe she hadn't.

"She'd be proud of you." I commented truthfully. Any mother, or father, would be proud of the things Ariella had accomplished, and what she will go on to accomplish, which was sure to be grand.

"Thanks." Ariella mumbled sleepily.

I rolled my eyes, because I knew she was about to go to sleep on my shoulder. It seemed like such a cliche for it to happen. But as her light snores hit my ears and her breathing evened out, I could only do one thing.

I smiled in content.

* * *

A/N: Boom!

Another short chapter in the books! This time we get a little backstory with Ariella and a stupid romantic scene. We're really just traveling right now, so I don't want to just skip through it too much and I don't want to focus on it. Also it does provide some opportunities with world building and character relationships.

So anyway, Captain Thren is demoted, something Hadvar loved to do! And traveling. Filler but it is what it is baby!

Let's talk in the reviews!


	21. Act II: Chapter 11

Hello everyone,

I'm writing this on a Thursday. Hurricane just made landfall this morning although it missed us. Work closed in preparation. Turns out, we didn't need it. But I am glad we were more safe than sorry. I remember, the day before Hurricane Harvey hit, almost nobody took it seriously. I fled to central Texas, at the behest of family and managed to avoid the worst of it.

It seems we learned our lesson, and started taking things a little more seriously.

So anyway, on to the chapter.

Follow me on instagram at wtmcdonaldauthor!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

"They've taken Helgen."

I didn't outwardly react to the news. I was too busy looking at the skirmish finishing up about a hundred yards in front of me. There were only two hundred men sent to meet us at the pass in the mountains that led straight into Helgen. We were about two days from the city.

As soon as I saw the men standing in the middle of the pass, I figured the news out already. It was a patrolling party, and there was already a man heading back to the city, to warn them of our approach. The other two hundred men were trying to slow us down so that he could escape. It took a very conservative group of nords to do that. Most of them would dine in Sovngarde tonight.

I spurred my horse forward, and rode up to the skirmish. My men were fighting well, despite being made up of new recruits we had been training on the road. I saw the opportunity to blood the men quickly, and get some experience in them, so I took that opportunity. I saw about two dozen dead bodies of my own men, and nearly ten times that many dead stormcloaks.

When I reached my men, the last Stormcloak let out a battle cry and ran straight towards the shield wall. The man probably thought his death glorious, and brave. All I saw was three spears running him through. He died quickly.

The biggest difference between the Battle of Druadach, and now, was that our equipment was much better than last time, especially with the new additions of spears, courtesy of General Tullius and the Legion. The Stormcloaks didn't stand a chance.

"Collect the dead, burn them." I commanded as the last man fell.

"We camp here."

"Why take Helgen?" Enden asked.

Many of us stood around a map of the area. Enden, Igmund, Ariella, Mirabelle, and Brun were the main people involved in the conversation.

"It's walled, and they know they cannot meet us in open combat." Igmund replied, studying the map. We were all ignoring a key point marked on the map. More importantly in the pass that led to Helgen.

"They don't want to meet us at all." I spoke up for the second time since our meeting started. I let them pause the discussion and look at me.

Once they did, I pointed to the obstruction. "He caused a landslide in the fucking pass. He wants us to go around. Once we do, which will take another two weeks, we will find a similar obstruction, and then they will leave after they accomplish what they wish here." I explained, while also thinking. I was tired of them bickering over things I already knew. I needed advice, not to babysit them to the right answers.

"What do they wish to accomplish?" It was Mirabelle that spoke up this time.

_Alduin's arrival. _

The answer was obvious to me, they didn't want to face Alduin and my army at the same time. The real question was how they knew Alduin was going to show up, and how long did we have to interfere, if we even wanted to.

"Most likely, it's to just run us around this mountain and deplete our supplies." I lied. It was a half-truth. "Whoever, most likely Miraak, caused the cave-in saw that this provided many opportunities. The first is what I just mentioned. Another is to see how we react to adversity. He wants to know how we're going to approach this war. Will we go around and find another way? Will we counter attack into their lands? Will we just focus on his supply lines? It's a test and there are many options for us." I explained.

"Coward." Igmund growled.

"Smart." I corrected. "You must know yourself, and your enemy intimately if you are to win a war. You must be able to predict them, and stay unpredictable at the same time."

"They are formidable." Ariella praised, also staring at the map. "What are we going to do?"

"What they least expect." I answered, already having made up my mind.

"Which is?" Enden asked.

"We're going straight through it."

* * *

It was a narrow passage that Miraak decided to obstruct. And yet, there was no other way around that was efficient enough. We would have to hike over five thousand men through the mountains, with full gear and wagons full of supplies. It wasn't going to happen.

I just happened to have a little thing called magick, and with the Archmage on my side, I had a lot of it.

That's why myself, and the members of the college were currently barreling our way through the roadblock. I used my magicka to lift another boulder and move it off to the side. Our progress was slow going, Miraak was remarkably thorough.

"That should be enough." Ariella said out of nowhere as I set the boulder down.

I looked to her, expecting an explanation out of her. Then I felt her intentions. Her Magicka reached out to me and the other magicians beside her. We joined her without hesitation, and gave her our magicka to manipulate.

She twisted and turned it, and pulled it back. It felt like the string of a crossbow being pulled back. I felt her tether it to the mountainside beside us and realized that is exactly what she was getting at. It was a curious piece of magick.

Once the force was pulled back enough, she let go.

The wall of stone in front of us rocketed away and a dust cloud kicked up. I could have been worried about life on the other side of the stone wall, but I had already tried sensing in that direction, and felt nobody on the other side.

Once the dust settled, there was a gaping hole, bigger than the actual road going through the wall of stone. I stood wide-eyed as I looked through to the other side.

Ariella strutted over to where I stood and bumped me with her shoulder. "What do you think?" She asked with a smile.

I couldn't help but notice how much physical contact we made these days. After that night beside Lake Ilinalta, touching each other seemed natural, instead of awkward.

"It was underwhelming." I lied to her as I put an unimpressed face on.

She just walked around me humming as if she didn't believe me at all.

* * *

"I thought this was what they least expected."

I rolled my eyes at my companion as I looked down on the battle in front of me. This was the fourth skirmish since we broke through the obstruction in the mountain pass.

"You were right to praise them." I commented back.

The first rank of men continued to push, march forward, and thrust their spears at the poorly organized men in front of them. One would think that numbers would mean very little, when confined into a smaller space like a mountain pass.

The problem is that my men were just too well trained. The Stormcloak's fell like grass to a scythe, and we barely stopped moving.

The first rank of my men would injure, or cripple and move on, while the second rank moved forward slitting throats, or piercing the hearts of the men bleeding on the ground. It slowed us down slightly, but the experience it was giving my men was worth every penny.

Why did I even want to arrive before Alduin? I already knew it was because Ariella and I could help end that threat before it began.

Give me a man, with the soul of a dragon, over the first-born of Akatosh anyday. I didn't even care of the power up they were sure to get. A man could die by my hands, I wasn't sure that Alduin could.

* * *

Moving through the mountains, with an army was a very slow process. Some passes were not possible with the equipment we had, and the Stormcloaks sabotaged the best roads to take.

We relied on Ariella and her magicians way too much.

When it wasn't the mountain giving us trouble, it was Stormcloak forces. Ambushes at night that were thankfully thwarted, most of the time. It did wear on my forces, of that there was no doubt.

I loved every second of it.

Finally, we reached the valley that held Helgen.

"Nearly seven thousand. Plus the eight thousand that took helgen."

"How did a force this big go unnoticed?" Ariella asked.

The important people in my army stood in Ariella's tent, discussing the battle to come and the situation we found ourselves in.

"We've been stuck in the mountains for the last few weeks. Messages have most likely been intercepted." Mirabelle answered her Archmage.

"It doesn't matter." I interrupted before we could go back and forth about a topic that didn't get us anywhere. "What are we going to do about it?" I asked.

"They outnumber us, mor

"We faced similar odds in Druadach." Igmund said. He was slowly starting to engage in our discussions again. It had taken him the better part of a month to act civilized with me after Rorikstead.

"We are not fighting forsworn." I reminded him. "These nords are smarter, and have a much more competent leader. It's not so easy this time."

"What choice do we have but to meet them in open combat?" Enden asked. Most of the time he was quiet and let us debate on the best course of action. He was becoming bolder as the days passed. Bjorn still refused to speak, he felt underqualified for the position he found himself in, although his confidence grew with each skirmish we fought. This battle would decide if he had what it takes.

"He makes a good point, they are not even bothering to hide behind the walls." Igmund offered.

"Not much of one." I admitted. "But what is more important, the city, or the battle?" I asked, genuinely curious. "What is our goal? The people, or the most death possible?"

We all thought about that for a moment. It was something I was genuinely curious about. It seems that nobody else really considered the option of the people.

"We can cripple them." Igmund said. It was what I expected from him.

"Assuming we win. We can also cripple ourselves." Ariella said.

"Our forces are superior. We know how they fight." Enden said, truly thinking about it.

The answer seemed to come to me, now that other people were chiming in.

"Why not both?" I asked. "We fight to the city, and if it seems we are close to victory, or a rout, then we will adjust our plans accordingly."

I looked at the map below.

The valley entrance we were currently occupying was dead south of the city about five hundred yards. The east wall of the city butted up against terrain that was nearly impossible for an army to traverse. Forest, steep, and wet. It led to a mountain. Not to mention the river that ran from the east off of the mountain alongside the north wall of the Helgen.

"Which gate?" Igmund asked.

"Straight ahead." I answered him by pointing at the south gate.

"Right through the bulk of their army?" Ariella asked with a curious tone, borderline doubting. I smiled and delivered a simple answer.

"Yes."

* * *

I was glad I was not the one giving the speeches.

In fact, I was still sitting on my horse on a hill overlooking where the battle would take place. Apparently, I was more valuable as a general than a footsoldier. I wanted to be on the front lines, but knew my place was here.

"First contact." I said, more for myself than anyone else.

The two armies collided with a crash that shook my bones. There was a little disorganization in the beginning from my army. The ferocity of the Stormcloak hadn't broken through completely, but did rattle the front lines.

"Shield wall!" That shout rang out across a line of about a thousand men.

It took about thirty seconds for the lines to become uniform again. That's when our plan began to kick in. The advanced battle marching that I had put our army through in Solitude began to show itself.

From my position, I could see what looked to be like a spear head forming in my army.

Towards the outside of the lines, my men were holding the line, and killing the men who approached, but not advancing. In fact, if you watched closely, the man on the second rank would touch the shoulder of the man in front of him, and they would take a step back collectively.

The men in the center of the first line were slowly starting to push out into the heart of the nords.

"Archers in position." I heard behind me.

"Fire towards the edges of the fighting, not the center. Do not hit our men." I commanded while observing the battle closely.

I continued to watch as our men began to form an arrowhead formation. Soon, it was completed.

In the distance, I saw a man on a horse giving commands to the opposite army. I couldn't make him out, but I was sure it was Miraak. He was seeing my plan, but could he stop it?

The archers took position at the base of my arrowhead formation and started to fire over the heads of their comrades, into the heart of the enemy.

I heard our enemy yell out shields, and their men obeyed by protecting themselves. The amount of men that actually fell to the arrows was few, but the time it gave my main force was invaluable.

"Push!" I heard our front lines yell.

About a five foot gap appeared from the edge of my army and the opposition for a brief moment, signaling we were about to advance. And that is exactly what happened.

Spears lashed out, and my men took a step forward.

"Fire!"

Arrows flew in the sky.

"Push!"

Rince, and repeat.

We continued this way, cutting into the army. It was about halfway into the army protecting the southern gate into the city that Miraak started to adapt to the situation. I was actually considering going on the offensive, instead of slowly making our way to the city. Our men were obviously superior.

Then Miraak called the cavalry. Literally.

I began to hear a rumbling, and a massive cloud of dirt rise on the other side of the city. I turned to Ariella and nodded to her. Immediately, she kicked her horse into gear, along with the rest of her magicians.

"Cavalry!" I barked out.

The command was sent down the chain, and it took about two minutes for my army to react. A massive amount of time in a battle.

Five hundred men from the third rank of my army broke off and moved down to the southwestern portion of my army, right where the cavalry was heading. Calling it a cavalry was a long shot. It was no more than three hundred manned horses. For my army, it might as well have been a minor distraction.

The cavalry saw my reaction and circled around. I thought about calling my men off to send them back to the main force, but waited a second. The cavalry made a big circle acting like they were abandoning the attack. And then just as they were about to make the bend around Helgen again, the turned around and continued their attack.

My men didn't move, and the cavalry approached again. Once they got close, they circled again.

"Bastard!" I mumbled.

It was a simple tactic, but one that required me to dedicate men to stop. If I called the men back, then the cavalry would actually attack and have free reign over the back rank.

My lines weren't suffering, in fact we were advancing, but it was just another distraction. Something that could lead to a mistake on my armies part.

A sound hit my ears. One I couldn't make out. But it itched a memory in my mind. It sounded like the tongue of dragons.

My eyes widened as the implications hit me.

Immediately I gathered my magicka and pulsed it twice. A code between Ariella and I. It said, gather on me.

I redirected the magicka under my skin to my voice.

"To the city! Now!" I commanded. Everyone in the valley must have heard it.

I put my heels into the horse below me and I began to ride to the heart of my army. My destination was the very tip of the army.

A roar echoed through the valley, louder than my own magickally enhanced voice. It came from the sky.

_No, no, no, no! _

I looked up to see a serpentine dragon come around a cliff in the mountains to the north. I knew we wouldn't make it to the city in time.

"Hadvar!" Ariella called out beside me as her horse caught up to mine. "We can't go into the city. It'll target the people!"

I never even considered that option once I realized what was coming. All I was worried about was my armies safety. But she was right.

"Keep the plan!" I yelled out, correcting my order as I stopped my horse.

I turned to Ariella then. "What are we going to do about it?" I asked her.

She pointed towards where Miraak sat on his horse, comfortable. "Kill it. There is a dragonborn near!" She answered me.

The prospect of a dragon scared me. Once I processed that, it pissed me off. Very rarely did I lose my wits. It was unacceptable. I nodded to my companion.

"Let's draw it's attention." I said, calming myself.

Ariella smiled, and the smell of ozone filled the air around me. If I wasn't used to her massive power, it would have overwhelmed my senses.

She hopped off of her horse and slapped it's ass. It ran off, obeying her. I decided that I would keep mine for a moment longer just in case.

Without warning, the world lit up. I wasn't sure how that was possible considering the sun beating down on the battlefield, but it did.

A bolt of lightning raced across the sky.

It was so far away, and happened so fast that I wasn't sure if it impacted the dragon or not. When another roar sounded out from the massive beast, I got my answer that her attack rang true.

"I thought you could barely control where it struck from so far away." I said, remembering our many conversations on the road.

"Mages Downfall." She offered as an explanation. "The reaction time helps you. Still a lucky shot, but less lucky without the increased reactions."

I filed that information in my mind and prepared myself for what was to come. There was still a cavalry demanding the attention of my men. We were still executing our plan, and now there was a fucking dragon heading my way.

We weren't close enough to the army for me to get to Enden, so I called for a runner. It was a boy that couldn't have been older than fifteen. Too small for his armor. He looked like an imperial.

"Tell Enden he is in charge. Stick to the plan." I told the boy, before giving my attention to the massive dragon heading my direction. It looked fucking pissed off.

The glint of a spear caught my eye on the ground beneath my feet. I reached down to grab it. Miraak's serpentine dragon was about to pass over the city. He was covering so much ground it was ridiculous.

I felt useless. I had almost no long range magickal option. I was a close range fighter. When a dragon is your enemy, that becomes a very hard battle, no matter what spells are available.

Suddenly, the dragon was close enough to send a massive fireball our direction. I felt Ariella's magicka rise to block the fireball. I switched into Mages Downfall for a second, reared back and threw the spear towards the Dragon.

The spear pierced through the fire, and I couldn't tell if it hit the dragon or not, because the fireball was exploding against the shield Ariella casted in front of us. Orange light spread around us, blocking our vision for a moment. There wasn't even a flicker in her shields.

When we could see again, the dragon was flying away from us, preparing to make another run.

And then, our day got even worse.

Another roar, separate from the Miraak's serpentine dragon, rang out in the sky. When I turned my head, I couldn't believe my eyes. The right hand dragon of Alduin, Odahviing flew through the sky. I knew it was him because of the way the sun hit his scales, bathing the world in a red light where it reflected. The real tell tale sign it was him, was the little black spot on his back.

Ulfric sat on his back.

* * *

A/N: Boom! Cliffhanger.

I really don't like doing cliffhangers, but this chapter just had to be split up, there was no way around it. It would have been massive otherwise.

The war is officially in full swing and Hadvar is in some deep deep shit. How will this first battle play out. It's gonna set the tone for the rest of the story for sure.

This is a war in a fantasy world of massive magickal players, powerful dragons, and gods. What do you people expect?

What do we think? Let's talk in the reviews!


	22. Act II: Chapter 12

Hello everyone,

I've had some dark thoughts about this story lately. In general, most reviews of my stories on this sight are overwhelmingly positive, with a few negatives. The more I read the reviews of this story, the less I like it. It's surprising because objectively, I actually like this story a lot.

In a way it is similar to 'Stronghammer', one of my completed fics on this site, but with the odds stacked against the main protagonist and arguably higher stakes. It is a way for me to practice my writing, with worldbuilding and other things. So I think I'll just go back to what I used to do, and mostly ignore reviews. This is for the story, because if I start to lose interest in my story, it'll worsen. And I need to finish it. So there.

Authors note at the bottom.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

A hint of hopelessness flooded my body, for a moment. Once I stamped that out, it was replaced by anger. It was honestly annoying that there were not one but two dragons stacked against us. And my army was still fighting in the background.

We were winning, admittedly, but that could change quickly. Ariella and I would be exhausted trying to defend our troops from the constant shouts that dragons could rain on them. We had to kill them, or drive them away.

Killing them, I was fairly sure, would power up Miraak and Ulfric. It was the most annoying thing. As I watched Miraak's dragon land near him, so that he could climb on it's back, I made a decision. There was only one option, and that was to fight.

Surrender would mean embarrassment, and possibly losing the war before it truly began. I held the King's Blade, and the hope of the Legion in Skyrim. It would mean the High King made a bad decision and truly didn't deserve his position. The only way I could salvage that would be to die for the cause.

Could I willingly die for the cause? Why else would I be in this position? Of course I could. It would only mean sovngarde, after all. I would dine with heroes. Doesn't sound like a bad plan.

But I didn't want my story to die. Was it such a crime to want to be great in this land? I wanted to reach the heights I didn't in my last life. I wanted my name to be remembered. I would die for that to happen, but it wouldn't be today.

So as Ulfric and Odahviing close the distance, heading straight towards Ariella and I, I decided that long range fighting wasn't going to do it for me. That was Ariella's area of expertise.

My magicka had grown a lot during the trip from Solitude to Helgen. So had my understanding of Mages Downfall. I wondered how high I could jump, and if I could combine Mages Downfall with a bit of telekinesis.

Only one way to find out. My magicka gathered itself and as I gave it purpose, the world slowed as my perception increased. I sent the spell into the more advanced stages and crouched. To Ariella it must have been less than a second, but to me it was an eternity waiting for the right opportunity. And honestly, why was Ulfric getting this close? Just stay far away and Shout the army down with the elements and Unrelenting Force.

I sent some telekinesis to the ground below me, to hold the earth together as I jumped off of it. I didn't want my legs to just pierce into the ground after all. I wanted a solid base to use.

I jumped.

I did not expect to go as high as I did. Neither did Odahviing or Ulfric expect it. I actually over shot them in the air. As I watched them go by I realized I would have to change my trajectory to accomplish my goals.

So I _grabbed _Odahviing, and _pulled_. I kept my magickal hold around his body, to make sure I wasn't thrown off if my plan worked.

It did. I started falling toward the person on his back. It was time for Ulfric to die in my mind.

I twisted my body in the air as Odahviing snapped at me while I was passing his head. I barely got out of the way in time.

Ulfric met me, sword to sword.

I stood upright on the red scales of Odahviing, made possible by the magicka I was directing for that exact purpose.

Ulfric began to whisper shouts as I pressed my speed and strength advantage. Somehow, he managed to deflect my sword to his head and buy himself some time. His speed increased enough by the time I continued my attack.

In his saddle, on the back of the dragon, he was strapped down so that he wouldn't fall off in mid-air. I could have appreciated the quality of the material if I wasn't in the middle of a duel. I increased the amount of magicka, and my speed increased also.

With the time I had casted Mages Downfall, I only used about a sixteenth of my magicka.

I sent blow after blow towards the man below me, but Ulfric, realizing the danger he was in, went completely on the defensive. He didn't even bother attacking. What was he waiting for?

The answer became apparent when a shadow alerted me of a very big, very fast object heading my direction. I allowed myself to fall off of the dragon below me, with barely enough time to avoid another set of jaws, courtesy of Miraak's dragon.

I molded my magicka a little more and grabbed Odahviing's neck. Then I used the momentum of my fall to _swing _myself back around to his back. It took too long for me to get an attack off on Miraak's dragon to try and injure it.

And then Ulfric and I were back at it. His defense was impressive, as was his concentration.

Suddenly, a thought struck me.

Why hadn't I driven the King's Blade into Odahviing's neck below me? No wonder Ulfric wasn't attacking. He was waiting for my magicka to run out. They had learned from the Challenge, when I crushed Miraak's windpipe. They thought they would simply outlast me.

I feigned an attack towards Ulfric one more time, and grabbed the King's Blade in a reverse grip. Before I plunged it into Odahviing's spine, I sent magicka towards it to reinforce the blade.

The runes glowed brightly, and slid through his scales like a hot knife would butter.

Odahviing did not roar. He did not have time to. Apparently dragon's have spinal cords, because I severed his, and he stopped moving immediately.

"Fus!"

I registered the words the same time the shout hit me. It took me by surprise, and my magickal hold on Odahviing slipped.

Flying through the air, heading ass over tit was extremely disorienting. There was no time to do anything. I thought I would hit the ground any minute and die from the speed I was moving. A cocoon of Magicka enveloped me. I recognized the feel of Ariella without trying.

The world was still upside down though, and I couldn't focus on a single thing. My stomach flipped and I worried I would throw up in mid air for a moment.

When Ariella righted me in the air, I did throw up, but the world began to make sense again. I floated right above the heart of the Stormcloak forces, near the wall. I must have been a hundred yards from the front lines of my own army. That was a problem, could Ariella bring me back to her?

I looked to find her. It was easy. She was a beacon of white-blue energy on the battlefield. In her hands was a staff, pointed right at me. From the distance I couldn't make it out. I knew it was the Staff of Magnus.

An unintelligible shout hit my ears, and a massive wave of force flew in her direction. She had no choice, and moved her staff to block the blow.

I fell like a puppet with its strings cut, as her magicka retreated.

_Fuck._

* * *

**Ariella POV**

I loved, and hated, the Staff of Magnus.

It was impossible to describe the feeling of having unlimited power in her hands. It wasn't meant for me. I could feel how I didn't wield it properly. I lacked the experience with it to wield it how it deserved. It was nothing more than a magickal hammer in my hands.

But I called to it, regardless, as Hadvar flew towards the ground.

_I didn't think I would have to use this at all, let alone this early in the war. Spacial magick should stay undiscovered. There is a reason the Psijic Order guards it's secrets so fervently. _

The space around my hand twisted as I made a grabbing motion. The Staff fell into my waiting hand. Immediately, I felt the connection with the Eye from its location on Artaeum. Distance did not matter to the Eye. That's why the Psijic Order sought it so.

It was child's play to reach out through the distance and grab Hadvar. I could see he wouldn't have been able to stop himself from hitting the ground. What a way to go. Sacrifice yourself to kill a dragon? His people would hail him for generations to come.

Well I couldn't let that happen. He was too valuable to me.

"Fus Ro Dah!"

I turned back to see the biggest wave of force heading my direction, courtesy of Miraak and his serpentine dragon. I didn't know you could combine shouts with dragons. I loved that dragon in the games. Now I had to kill it.

I let the magick holding Hadvar go. He would be fine.

I whipped the Staff of Magnus, and an impenetrable barrier mimicked the motion, smacking the shout out of the air and sending it away. With another thought, a massive spear of ice formed in the air and I sent it toward the belly of the dragon. It bounced off.

_Lightning it is. _

I began to summon the lightning around my form to prepare it for use when it happened. I had my doubts of Ulfric being the Dragonborn. In fact, I was convinced it was Hadvar. He seemed to be the perfect candidate. He had done more, with less, than I had in a much shorter time in this universe.

I didn't think he knew just how handicapped he was. I wasn't sure, but our first meeting in Markarth couldn't have been more than a week since his transmigration. We never talked about it, but I was capable of deduction.

I had my body for close to a year longer than him, if that was the case. His progress was impressive, and shouldn't have been possible. That's why my thoughts produced him as the Dragonborn. But to do this as an ordinary man? My respect for him rose, as was common.

Nonetheless. Odahviing's body began to decompose, and the lights I was so familiar with traveled into Ulfric's body.

Another obstacle to overcome.

* * *

**Hadvar POV**

I wielded my magicka again, and immediately went into Mages Downfall. Luckily, nobody noticed me floating in the air above them, they were too busy about to face my army.

I started killing without thought.

The King's Blade killed the nearest five men to me in the span of two seconds after my feet hit the ground. Most by slit throats.

I started to move towards the front of my army, just as a wave of arrows dotted the air above me. Was my own army trying to kill me?

Then I realized they were doing the opposite.

The Stormcloaks that I ran between, killing, were facing the opposite direction of me. They ignored the calls from the men behind them trying to warn them of my deadly run back to my army. Instead, they began to raise their shields to block the arrows, leaving me perfect opportunities to deal very very nasty cuts along their midsections. Most died from these cuts, but all of them were out of the battle.

I raised a shield in the air to protect me from the arrows as I continued to run and swing my sword.

A hundred men died from my sword before I reached the front lines of my own army. When I did reach them, the lines parted for me, allowing me protection. I wanted to berate them, but they could afford it because of my affect on the Stormcloak army.

A brief moment of inaction happened as the sky lit up with a myriad of different colors. It was like a hundred rainbows swirling around a single point on the ground.

I used the opportunity to close the distance to Ariella. It was easy work with Mages Downfall. By the time I reached her, I realized what was happening.

"Dovahkiin!"

"Dovahkiin!"

"Dovahkiin!"

The Stormcloaks shouted out the word as if their life depended on it. Their lives might have depended on it.

Ulfric Stormcloak stood on solid legs from where Odahviing fell in the battle field, about two hundred yards in the direction of the fighting from where I stood. The lights flew from Odahviing's dead body, into his body. It was proof that Ulfric Stormcloak was indeed the Dovahkiin.

"DOVAHKIIN!"

That particular shout bounced off of the mountaintops, and drowned out all of the noise on the ground. It was the Greycloaks at the Throat of the World, calling out to the Dovahkiin. We were so far away, it was amazing the sound even reached.

"Fuck." Ariella said beside me, and her head turned to where the armies fought.

My men were actually retreating. Step by step, they moved backwards under the onslaught from the Stormcloak army. I never thought I would have seen the day when a simple rallying cry would change the battle completely.

"We have to do something." Ariella yelled towards me.

Miraak and his dragon were about to make another pass at Ariella. They were staying with their plan of wearing us down. I never would have thought it possible, but Ariella did look a little fatigued. Although her magicka hadn't changed in depth at all.

It must be mentally draining channeling so much magicka from the Staff of Magnus itself.

"Lend me your magicka."

Ariella didn't even bother questioning it. Instead, I felt her magicka envelope and pierce me. Although, it wasn't hers.

Visions of another place flashed in front of my eyes. It was an island, not the biggest I had ever seen, but a good size. Maybe two thousand, three thousand acres?

On a corner of the island, a massive gleaming castle sat. There were many towers, but one reached into the air and touched the sky. At the peak, a floating orb of blue and black sat. I could see a stream of blue light flying through the air.

The vision cut, and I was back on the battlefield of Helgen. I didn't have time to ponder the vision or what it was. That would be for later.

Instead, I tried my best to cast a spell that might turn the tides of the battle in our favor.

I molded my magicka to the highest quality restoration I knew, and sent it towards my army. My mind's eye seemed to follow the magicka, and it was easy to stop at my own men. Wouldn't want to heal the Stormcloaks, after all.

I didn't do any major healing to anyone. It was mainly stamina increases, and small wounds might have closed also. On such a grand scale, there was no way I could heal everyones wounds. I just couldn't achieve that amount of control. I wasn't sure if I ever would.

I don't know how much time I spent on the spell, but it felt like an eternity. Eventually, I decided that it was enough. My body was growing hot, from channeling the massive amounts of magicka.

As a parting gift, I sent a burst of 'Courage' towards everyone. Some might say I was the first person to successfully cast 'Call to Arms' in the last one thousand years. I wasn't so sure it was a successful cast.

All I knew was that I was dog tired when I opened my eyes.

As I looked around the battlefield, I realized a couple of things. One, my army was now running over the Stormcloaks as if they were children. Two, Ulfric was calmly walking towards Ariella and I. Three, Miraak was climbing down off of the back of his dragon. He joined Ulfric when he got close enough.

"Think they want to surrender?" I asked Ariella jokingly.

"Our surrender, maybe." She retorted with a smile.

"Good luck with that."

I continued to watch them approach us with a smile on my face. My army was in the background, getting alarmingly close to a rout of the enemy forces. Their numbers had been cut to below what remained my army. And we were still going.

But Ulfric and Miraak had a big smile on their face.

They stopped about fifty yards from us, and turned to the north. I watched them for a moment, trying to understand what they were doing. Both of their eyes traced the sky, waiting. Patient.

What were they waiting on?

"Alduin." Ariella answered me with a whisper.

I didn't think I had ever heard a dragon roar, without shouting in this life. Alduin was not afraid of roaring. I couldn't help but think it was louder than any shout I had heard.

He was definitely the biggest living thing I had seen.

When he rounded the mountains to the north, he looked like a shadow. His scales were black as the night sky. Maybe darker. Obsidian might have been a better comparison.

Did Miraak and Ulfric know that Alduin was coming? This whole time?

Is that why Ulfric hadn't strained himself fighting me. Was he saving himself for the real fight?

What do we do now?

I looked to my army. The Stormcloaks had stopped fighting, and were now in full retreat mode. My army pursued, cutting them down. I waved another runner over. The exact same boy from earlier in the day arrived.

"Tell them not to pursue, get everyone in the city. Protect the civilians!" I told him quickly. The boy rode off to do as he was told and I turned to Ariella.

"Let's join them, yea?" I asked her.

"What use will we be?" Ariella returned. Her eyes were wide as she saw the first-born of Akatosh fly through the air.

I sent her a smile that wasn't nearly as confident as I wanted it to be. "Don't worry, you're with a dragonslayer." I told her as I took off running towards where Ulfric and Miraak stood.

She followed, and when I looked back, I saw that she ran with a surprising grace and speed. I blamed it on her heritage. A part of me hoped she was clumsy. I was glad to be wrong.

Miraak turned to me as we approached, but he noticed my sheathed blade and didn't react.

I started to slow down as I approached.

"I knew you were another." Miraak said as I walked up to him. He had his mask on. Did he want his old master to see him as he used to be? "How did you hide yourself from me?"

"I didn't." I answered him as I looked to the sky. Alduin was circling us in the sky. "Maybe your master hid knowledge from you." I responded.

"Nobody is my master, young one." Miraak retorted, with an even tone. He was much more level headed than I expected.

I noted that information. So why was he allowing Ulfric to make a bid for High King? Why wouldn't he want it for himself? What was above High King?

Emperor.

The answer hit me. Miraak didn't want the High King position, because it would be beneath him. He wanted to rule, but over everyone and everything. I wondered if he was chasing after Talos, for a moment. Sometimes, I felt as if I was doing the same.

"We will help you for this fight, but afterwards you will take your army and leave. Helgen is ours." I offered. I didn't want to admit it, but I wasn't sure that Ariella and I could defeat these two by ourselves just yet. I had already bridged the gap between Ulfric and I, but if Alduin was to be defeated now, then he would rocket ahead of me, no doubt.

I needed more time.

"You may have the city, it is of no use to us." Miraak answered me. "But I will not need your help for this. I have waited a millenia for this moment."

When Alduin got closer to landing, it was obvious he was at least three times the size of Odahviing, and Miraak's dragon. His massive orange eyes darted around, looking at the dragon behind Miraak, and the corpse of Odahviing on the ground.

The ground rumbled when he landed.

"Mi ra rak!" Alduin growled out. His voice was so similar to the games it was ridiculous. But it was more grating, deep, commanding. "Vahlok has failed, then."

"Vahlok was full of tricks. I allowed him to live, when I felt your absence." Miraak said. His hand reached up to the Dragon Mask on his face, and slowly removed it.

"You reek of Oblivion. *Unintelligible* has claimed you. One master for another. Always Aar! Like the Dovah behind you." Alduin's response cut into Miraak, I could tell.

Miraak let a growl escape his throat in response. His hands went to his robes and he peeled off the outer layer. His torso was in full view of the dragon. Tattoo's ran up and down his arms and chest. Most devoted to dragons or some aspects of dragons.

"My time as a servant has passed. It is time I rule." Miraak said.

"I will drown you and this world in my fire!" Alduin roared at Miraak.

It was like a switch flipped, one moment they were conversing, the other there were two massive fireballs colliding. Miraak's magicka skyrocketed, showing off his full capability.

It was higher than my own. It was higher than Calcelmo's, Mirabelle Ervine, and every other mage I had encountered. All except Ariella. She still dwarfed any and all I had ever felt.

Miraak's may not have been as big, or deep as Ariella. But it was easily more efficient and honed than hers. He had absolute control over his magicka.

Then he sent it to his throat.

Alduin didn't watch it happen, instead his massive black wings beat on the air and he jumped.

"Joor Zah Frul!"

There is a sense in every being. It tells you when something isn't as it is supposed to. Everything about the shout screamed wrong. As if it was a contradiction to life. I hated it, as soon as I heard it.

Dragonrend.

I questioned where Miraak learned the shout for two seconds before realizing that the knowledge must have been somewhere in Hermaus Mora's realm of knowledge. I wondered what Miraak didn't have access to there. Did he know where the Elder Scrolls were too?

The blue shout of Dragonrend smacked into Alduin's form, grounding him before he could ever take off.

Miraak channeled even more magicka to his throat, it was a massive amount. Maybe the same amount of magicka as I had used casting Call to Arms. All located in one point on his throat.

Miraak was increasing the power of his Thu'um with magicka? I didn't know it was possible.

"Zii Los Dii Du."

Miraak and Alduin both locked up, eyes on one another. I couldn't tell what was going on, both of them just stood there. Alduin twitched a couple of times, but other than that he did nothing.

Ulfric, who was watching the exchange with neutral eyes, moved towards Alduin's prone form. He drew his sword about half way.

_There is no way. There is no way Alduin is about to be handled this easily. _

My eyes looked around the battlefield once again. I had neglected it since Alduin arrived. Everyone stared at us. My own men were looking at the massive dragon on the ground. The Stromcloaks had actually started to kneel in front of the massive beast.

I wondered whether it was out of respect or not. Obviously, all of their men had been warned that Alduin would return today. Were they only here to allow their masters this opportunity? Had Miraak and Ulfric expected this outcome?

Everyone would see the Stormcloak's defend the entire realm from the World-ender. What would this do to swing the people's opinion on the rebellion.

'The Legion would have allowed you to die, or become slaves, by Alduin's hand.'

I could already hear the rumors spread in my mind.

'Hadvar and Ariella, heroes of the Legion, helped the dragonborn slay Alduin.'

That was much better for the Empire's cause. I fell into Mages Downfall quickly. Before anyone could react, I was closing the distance to Alduin and drawing my sword. Ulfric didn't have time to even hear my footsteps as I jumped.

I must have looked epic, in mid-air, with the King's Blade glowing runes on display for everyone to see. Before I knew it, I was hanging on as the sword plunged into Alduin's skull.

"No!" Ulfric's deep voice exclaimed behind me.

Alduin thrashed beneath me, and I planted my feet on his skull before yanking the blade out of his brain and jumping off. Alduin's body shook violently for a moment before falling still.

"Damn you." Miraak said. He must have been kicked out of whatever was going on between him and Alduin.

_Did they not want Alduin dead? Isn't that the whole point of this? _

Miraak barked something. I turned to see him climbing on the back of his dragon, just as Alduin started to decompose. I hated to admit it, but it was a beautiful sight.

His black body slowly started to become more and more orange, before small flakes started flying into the air and dissolving. The same colors from Odahviing began flying off of his form. I traced them carefully to see them heading towards Ulfric. Was that why they were mad at me, because Miraak wasn't able to devour Alduin's soul, instead of Ulfric.

"Ahh!" Ulfric fell to one knee as he started screaming.

Miraak's dragon flapped its wings twice, sending wind and dust in all directions. It reached a single foot down to where Ulfric was absorbing Alduin and grabbed him. Two more beats of his wings, and he was in the air.

The battle cry of a thousand Stormcloak soldiers hit my ears, and I looked to see they were charging my army. They were even more disorganized than before.

The cavalry Miraak commanded were already leaving the valley, headed back north. They must have been too valuable to let die. The rest of his men weren't. Nords did not surrender, I should have remembered. We would have to send them all to Sovngarde.

Ariella shuffled up beside me as I looked back to the retreating form of Miraak. Her question, I had no answer for.

"What now?"

* * *

A/N: Boom!

I had always planned on Alduin being handled fairly easily and early on. I didn't want the focus on the story to become the 'world-ending' type. I want it to be a war for Skyrim, and possibly beyond.

Odahviing is dead. Alduin is dead. Both by Hadvar's hand! What do we think? We got a little glimpse into Ariella and the Staff of Magnus too.

Does anybody know what island Hadvar saw in his vision?

Why are Miraak and Ulfric upset about Hadvar killing Alduin?

Let's talk in the reviews!


	23. Act II: Chapter 13

Hello everyone,

I was happy with where the story went last week. I felt like it was action packed but it also got back to what this story was about. I don't particularly like the writing as much. I think it could have been written better for sure. But overall, I'm happy with it.

Poor Alduin, he never stood a chance. But now that we have him out of the way, it allows us to move forward with the proper story. So let's do that.

Authors note at the bottom.

Follow me on instagram at wtmcdonaldauthor!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

Helgen looked nothing like it did when I first arrived.

When Miraak and Ulfric rode away on their dragon and it became obvious that the fighting was over, the city came alive. I stood on the uncompleted outer wall of the city, looking down at the previous battlefield.

The grass was unnaturally green in some parts, fed by the blood of dead soldiers. Some spots had black patches where massive funeral pyres were held when it became obvious we couldn't bury all the dead.

The civilians worked side-by-side with my men, digging or loading up bodies. It was a sad reality of war. There are always casualties. But these nords just shrugged off the inconvenience of war, strapped up their boots and got to work.

"My people want to know when you'll leave."

I didn't have to turn to know it was the mayor of Helgen. He was a good mayor, who cared for his people. Just like Rorik, he knew the effects an army could have on local resources.

The stone in my hand felt a bit warmer as he asked the question. It was a peculiar piece of jewelry that gave off a very specific magickal signature. Although it wasn't one I was familiar with.

"Soon. By the end of the week, most likely." I answered the mayor. I still hadn't turned to him. Instead my eyes were on the battlefield, along with the amulet in my hand.

Retreating footsteps told me he was satisfied with the answer. Or at least, he was accepting of it.

I looked to my right. Ariella sat on the stone wall, with her feet dangling off the edge. In her hand was a magickal tome. It was dedicated to the use of staves.

"Did you know that it is possible to create a staff so in tune with you, it acts as a sort of conduit. A foci, to be more specific." Ariella said, intrigued by the information in her hand.

"No." I answered truthfully. "How useful is it?" I asked her, trying to avoid the stone in my hand.

The same courier that handed her that book, had handed me this stone. The tome was entirely custom. It didn't even follow the traditional format of magickal books.

"It offers almost no advantage in power. But rather, exact control." Ariella answered with a curious look on her face.

I knew where she was going with that statement immediately. "You think that's the reason the Staff of Magnus is so hard to wield? Because it's not yours?"

"Partly." She mumbled as her eyes continued to scan the book.

I decided that I had avoided the amulet enough, so I channeled magicka into it without warning. I could feel someone on the other side answer the call.

Suddenly he was there. An ethereal projection of a mage appeared in front of me. It was obvious to me that he had elven heritage, even though his stature, and facial structure told me he was mostly imperial.

He floated in the air, with his arms crossed. He was thin, but I could tell he was strong through his form fitting robes. He was a dangerous man. His hair was pulled into a perfect high ponytail.

Ariella's attention was drawn from the book, curious to what was going on.

"I was starting to think the battle didn't go so well for us, Hadvar." The projection said.

"Us?" I asked, unsure of who exactly I was speaking to.

"Is it not obvious? My name is Rexus, personal Battlemage to the Emperor. Or warmage, if you want my official title."

_Oh, so nobody important. _I joked to myself.

"Warmage." I said as I dipped my head to him respectfully.

"Do not stand on ceremony with me. I get enough pampering in the capital. You may call me Rex." The 'most powerful magician in Tamriel' introduced himself. I knew that Ariella could rival him for that title, as could the council of the Aldmeri Dominion. Even Miraak could make an argument for it.

"Rex it is." I said. I gathered that he truly didn't want to be pampered by his tone and introduction. He was obviously a man of action, and deserved his title.

"Good. Now, report of the Battle of Helgen?" Rex asked. It was more of a command.

I fell into my military training and summed up the battle efficiently, including the details I knew Tullius appreciated and omitting those that had no effect on the conversation.

"Anything of importance to note?" Rex asked when I finished up. He kept looking to the side of him, which made me think a scribe might be writing our conversation down.

"What do you know of Alduin?" I asked him, unsure of how to approach the conversation.

"Said to be the first-born of Akatosh. Ruled over Skyrim, and most of the world before he, and his kind were killed. Why?" Rex asked, a fierce look on his face.

"He was never killed, just banished through time, to now. He returned." I told him. "During the battle he was killed."

Rex paused for a moment, and I imagined he was digesting the information. "Only dragonborn can slay a dragon, Hadvar. Is that what you are implying?"

"Yes." I confirmed. "But it gets worse."

The next few minutes was full of me informing Rex of Miraak. I spilled the beans on everything. His origins as a dragon priest, his banishment into Apocrypha, and his involvement in the war. As far as Tullius knew, Miraak was a pawn of Ulfric, not the other way around. Now I had a way to introduce Miraak as the real threat of the war. He wanted the throne in Cyrodil, not Solitude, after all. Rex should take great concern to that.

"There is always someone vying for the throne, Hadvar. If it isn't the nobles in the city, it is the Altmer. Miraak is not so impressive, to be frank. If you can manage to defeat one dragonborn, you can defeat two. I will approve the additional supplies you need. Now that Helgen is secured, we must keep it. Leave half of your forces to keep it, and a man competent enough to lead them. You have built a proper army, and proven yourself. The emperor will provide men, Hadvar. We need you to forge them into soldiers, the past will catch up to us sooner than you can expect. The fate of the Empire is in Skyrim."

There was no warning to the end of the conversation, Rex just disappeared, as did his magicka in the amulet in my hand.

"That was interesting." Ariella said, as she stood up and walked over to me.

I glanced at her, and saw she was holding an envelope. "He left a note." She said as she opened it.

'_Archmage, _

_I hope you enjoy the tome. It has been in my family since before the empire existed, and possibly before that. Our mutual friend Mirabelle thought you might have use for it. Do not worry, she kept your secrets. I am left with only theories as to why. _

_On the back of this envelope is a gift from me to the College for your crucial involvement in the war effort. It is the method for creating what used to be called 'waystones'. They serve as communication devices, like the one in Hadvar's hand. Use it wisely. _

_Know that the College is now a friend to the Legion. Perhaps, once the war is over, we can help expand magicka's influence in Tamriel. I have a feeling we will be able to discuss this in person, one day. I look forward to that day. _

_-Rex, Warmage to the Imperial Legion. _

"Someone has a not so secret admirer." I joked with a smile.

Ariella shot me a smile, and gave me a knowing look. "Jealous?" She asked.

I shrugged, but was completely honest with her. "A little, yeah."

Ariella chuckled a little bit, and flipped the letter over. She studied the formula to create the device Rex mentioned for a second before folding it up and closing the book.

"I think I've figured out what Miraak and Ulfric had planned." Ariella said, completely changing the conversation.

"For Alduin?" I asked. I too, had theories as to why they were angered at me killing him.

"Yes. The shout that Miraak used is the 'Devour Soul' shout. But I don't think that's truly what he wanted to accomplish." Ariella began.

I could piece the next bit together myself. "You think he knew he couldn't overcome Alduin's soul? He was trying to stall?"

"Yes, but not for Ulfric to kill." Ariella confirmed. "I think he wanted Ulfric to use 'Bend Will'." She said.

That threw me for a loop. Alduin, the world-eater, and all of his power, under the will of Ulfric. A normal dragon was bad enough, but the original? The first Dragon? First-born of Akatosh? Capable of reviving other dragons, and traveling to other realms, like Sovngarde? That would have been the worst case scenario, for sure. I hadn't even considered the possibility.

What had we done, if Alduin had called meteors down on our army? There are no dragonborn on the Legions' side capable of 'Clear Skies'. The war would have been over almost immediately. No wonder they were upset with me killing him.

Now that I thought about it. Even though the outcome wasn't the best for them, there was really no way of them losing that day. Enslave Alduin or kill him, both lead to an advantage in the war.

All it cost them was a few thousand troops. That part was the true loss to me. Miraak and Ulfric treated their men like the dragons used to treat the nords of old, uncaring and as tools to sacrifice on a whim. It made me sick.

"That would have been catastrophic." I said. "Even Alduin would have had trouble had he been forced to split his attention and fight two powerful shouts like that."

Ariella nodded. "Crisis averted."

* * *

I started to dislike the time I spent in the saddle of a horse.

It was mind-numbing to travel so much. I tried to distract myself with thoughts of the war, or with studying magick. But a part of me wanted to be back in my tower in Solitude. Or in the barracks of Markarth.

I thought of the twenty-five hundred men I left behind in Helgen. I wondered if Brun had received his first shipment of goods, or men yet. I knew he hadn't, or he would have contacted me with the waystone we left him. Ariella had figured that little piece of magick fairly quickly.

I sent a man with another waystone across Skyrim, in search of General Tullius. It would be invaluable to be able to communicate with the man in real time, with real updates. This type of technology would be a major advantage over our opponents.

Ralof had already received his, and we were having daily discussions of the war along with tactics for the future.

Somehow, when dark thoughts plagued me, Ariella would distract me with something. It could have been a childish game like 'I spy'. You have no idea how refreshing something that simple could be.

Soon, the source of all of these thoughts became apparent when I rode into my hometown or Riverwood. I was scared of meeting my family. What would they think of the man I had become?

The banging of a hammer hitting steel was a smack in the face of nostalgia. Immediately, I smiled when I heard it. From Helgen, my uncle's shop was the first commercial building you could find. It dwarfed the houses around it.

My family had been one of the founding members of Riverwood. After the lumber mill was built, people flocked to the town for work. This included tradesmen like my grandfather, a master blacksmith from Falkreath. He put up his shop, right along the road, before anyone could tell him not to.

When the city began to get big enough to warrant a mayor, and the zoning came, it was already too late. It was in the best location in town, and business showed. Other blacksmiths were driven out of business for that reason, and grandfather died knowing that his family would be ok, as long as the business stayed alive.

I saw the smoke of the forge, before I saw anything else. For a town built on cutting trees down and selling them, there were still a lot of old pines along the road into town.

I turned to Enden. "Get the men through the town. Before the bridge, there is a pasture, have them set up camp there." I told him.

Enden nodded to me and moved to do as I said. Ariella stayed by my side. "Going to see your family?" She asked, a little more delicate than she normally was.

"Yes." I said with a nod. I told myself to invite her. I wanted her to meet them.

"I'll see you in the morning then?" Ariella asked, taking the information in stride. I knew she wanted me to invite her too.

"You're not coming?" I asked, as if she should assume she was invited.

She looked at me as if she wasn't sure. "You should probably get some alone…"

"Nonsense, you're coming." I told her as I swung a leg over my horse. My family's shop came into view just as I did.

I tied my horse up on the spot I used a thousand times before and turned around to see that Ariella was swinging a leg over her own horse. She tried to hide the smile on her face, but was unsuccessful.

I tied her horse off for her and moved towards the shop without saying anything. There were other horses tied up, so I knew my family would be busy entertaining customers. I wondered if they would recognize me.

The same smell of steel, and burning wood hit my nose as I walked through the doors of the shop. It had changed slightly.

There was still a counter that separated the normal goods from the more expensive kinds. I recognized my aunt Sigrid quickly. She was busy leaning over a sword, describing it to a young man. Might be someone wanting to join the war. Or a young warrior starting his journey.

I turned to Ariella and nodded my head conspiratorial. She smiled as she got the message and we moved to the weapon racks spaced across the room. I looked at the work with a critical eye. Had Uncle taken on an apprentice? There were a lot of works on the racks that weren't his.

But I could spot the ones his hand had made. It was in the way steel was hit. His arms had memorized the movements long ago, and there were hardly any mistakes.

A young woman came in from the back. Her arms showed a little more muscle than you would expect, but it wasn't manly. I barely recognized her with the soot on her cheeks. It was my little cousin, Dorthe. She had obviously grown up since I had last seen her.

I grabbed a sword that I knew must have been one of her works and moved to the counter. Dorthe didn't look up to my face, she was too busy trying to get her mothers attention.

I set the sword on the counter in front of me.

"Could you tell me who made this fine sword?"

Dorthe froze, as did Sigrid. Their heads snapped to me, and their eyes roamed my face.

"Hadvar!"

Next thing I knew, I was catching my cousin as she jumped across the counter to hug me. I laughed as I pulled her long legs over the counter the rest of the way and squeezed her.

"It's nice to see you, little sister." I told her.

"I've missed you so much!" Dorthe replied.

My aunt was already busy shooing the young man trying to buy the sword out of the shop. "My son has returned home, you'll have to come back in the morning!"

My heart clenched as she called me son.

"You too lass." Sigrid yelled towards Ariella.

"She is with me." I told the woman who raised me before she could throw Ariella out.

Dorthe unlatched herself from my neck as I said that and looked to my companion. "She is? I am Dorthe, who are you?"

Dorthe was just as excitable as I remembered.

"Ariella."

Both of the women in my family turned to me then. "Hadvar, she's gorgeous!"

In another life, I would have blushed. In this one, I just felt like embarrassing Ariella a little more. "Of course she is!" I agreed.

Ariella stammered out something that sounded like a 'thank you.' She was the one blushing. And I loved it. It took everything I had not to laugh out loud.

"Hadvar, go get your uncle. Ariella, would you help us with dinner? We'll need to go pick something special up from the market. Dorthe, go get cleaned up." Sigrid began barking orders, and Ariella was smart enough to agree. Dorthe pouted towards her mother for a moment, wanting to spend more time with me, but eventually just huffed and did as she was told.

I winked at Ariella and moved past the counter, to the door I knew would lead to the forge.

I opened it with the same confidence as I used to. But when I saw Alvor standing over a lump of metal, hitting it with his hammer, I stopped. It had been too long since I had seen my uncle. I tried to remember just how long. It must have been around a year and a half by now. Maybe longer. I had lost time in the Legion, and on the road so much. I didn't even know the date, to be honest.

I closed the door quietly, and moved to the bench off to the side. I know my uncle saw my movement, but he did not look up. He was always so concentrated when folding the metal for the blades.

He must have wanted to start on another one, before he turned in for the day. I knew he could finish it tonight if he wanted, but he had enough in the shop to last a while, and he was getting a little older.

In fact, I could see a single streak of grey running through his hair, that hadn't been there when I left. Dorthe must have been a handful. Or maybe it was his nephew leaving and not returning for so long. I had opportunities to send letters, I just never had.

The forge looked like it needed some air, so I moved over to the fan, and gave it a few good pushes. My uncle looked like he appreciated the gesture. Then he must have seen something that broke him out of his trance. Maybe it was the way I did it that was different from Dorthe or Sigrid. Maybe he just saw my build was different than theirs. Either way, his eyes snapped to me.

His face had yet to crack, except along his eyes. His forehead was smooth, still. He was still a healthy thirty-six year old. He was a nord through and through. A frown was permanently plastered on his face, as if he was trying to beat the world into submission, not the steel in his hands. He was barrel chested from years of swinging a hammer. He was an absolute bear of a man.

And yet, his eyes softened when he recognized me. His face lit up into a smile, a true smile. One, I had no choice but to mimic.

"Welcome home son."

* * *

A/N: Boom!

Wrote this one a little early for you guys. But it'll be posted the same day for y'all so I doubt the difference will be seen.

A little wholesome chapter for everyone.

We got the motivation behind Ulfric and Miraak's anger during the battle. We got a conversation from the Warmage Rex. A good guy, to be honest. And we got a little family time!

What did we think about the bit about 'waystones'? Staves? What about Ariella meeting the family?

Let's talk in the reviews!


	24. Act III: Chapter 1

Hello everyone,

I'm glad we liked the family moments of the last chapter. I enjoyed writing it. But I think it's time we get back to the real Skyrim. So I think I'll skip their time spent in Riverwood and get to the story again. Anyway, let's get into it.

Follow me on instagram at wtmcdonaldauthor!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

As I passed through the twists and turns in the road that led to Whiterun, my mind was filled with thoughts of my childhood and the countless times I made the exact same trip, except with different company.

I knew that around this last bend, the trees would part for the few farmlands in Skyrim that led to Whiterun. And the whole time, Whiterun would loom over us in the distance.

I turned to the one person that always stayed by my side during our travels all over the province, Ariella. She looked deep in thought, a normal state of being for her. We talked while rode, but more often than not, we rode in silence beside each other.

It was refreshing, to be so comfortable with someone that we could enjoy silence together. That's when you know it's real.

Out of nowhere, I heard her moans in my ear.

I was looking at her, so I knew she didn't actually make the sound. It was a memory, and one I was very fond of.

Ariella snapped out of whatever trance she was in and looked to me. It must have been written on my face, because she blushed slightly and let a smile bloom. She didn't even have to say anything to tease me, but she did wink.

I turned my horse around the bend. "Pay attention." I told her as the trees began to part.

Normally, the first thing you would notice, would be the tall stalks of wheat blowing in the wind. But we were nearing winter, and the farmers had already harvested their fields.

Instead of the golden brown of wheat, they were patchy with green and brown. I was actually surprised at the amount of grass that had begun to grow since the harvest. Winter was approaching fast, and there had already been a freeze.

It was part of the reason we left Riverwood so quickly, Skyrim was about to show us why she was one of the most unforgiving provinces. I knew better than to test her, so we rushed to Whiterun, and the safety of it's walls.

So the ride might not have been as pretty along the road, but I could still appreciate the beauty of farmers readying up for the winter. We even took a few families in with us. Our reputation had already spread across Skyrim. Hadvar would not allow his army to harm any of Skyrim's children. So the families saw it as a good opportunity to travel safely, amongst an army.

I even bought some supplies from the families. Most of the time it was delicacies like brandy, or vodka. Ralof had apparently introduced the idea of fermenting from potatoes, instead of our traditional hops and grains. In the cold of Skyrim, vodka was quickly becoming a favorite amongst nords.

It sparked the industrial part of my mind. Maybe once this was all over, I could settle down and focus on making the world a better place, as opposed to making war?

* * *

"You have finally made it!"

Ralof stood in front of his massive city gate, which was wide open for our arrival. The people of whiterun were out and about for the occasion too, lining the massive cities streets.

Countless Companions kept them in line and off of the streets for our arrival.

"Just in time to freeze to death!" I yelled back to him as I hopped off of my horse. Ariella mirrored me and climbed off of her own horse.

"Bah, it is warm in Whiterun!" Ralof retorted as he moved forward to embrace me in a hug. I returned it gladly.

It was nice that we were no longer at each other's throats because of our political beliefs. We might not share the same views, but we were on the same side and that was what mattered.

"How does the city look?" Ralof asked as he moved to Ariella.

Before she could answer, I looked towards the massive city.

The walls were at least 30 feet in the air, and the stone was clean as could be. Ralof had to have hired people to achieve that.

The wall I was looking at was not the first wall into the city, it wasn't even the second wall. We had to pass through two different gates, at least a hundred yards apart to reach the front gate.

And lining the walls, about every twenty feet, was a ballista with guards near it all the time looking towards the skies. Ralof had been very busy since he returned to his city, or maybe he started it before the Challenge because he knew what was coming.

All I knew is that no dragon should fly near the city, or it was all but inevitable it would be brought down by the hundreds of ballista shooting at it.

"She is beautiful." Ariella said as she hugged Ralof also.

My eyes, and attention, was brought to the man in front of me again. He hadn't changed a bit, although he did seem a bit more jolly. The reason for that became obvious when one of the most famous members of the Companions guild walked forward at Ralof's behest.

Aela the Huntress strode forward, in a sundress that reached just passed her knees. She did not have the war paint that was normally on her face. And she was obviously pregnant, like at least eight months pregnant. She was absolutely glowing.

Ralof bagged Aela?

"This is my wife, Aela the Huntress." Ralof introduced. He opened his mouth to say something else about her but she interrupted.

"I am normally much more fierce, I promise." Aela said with a charming smile. Her voice had a seductive edge to it. Kind of like Sybille Stentor, but with a more wild appeal to it.

"Hadvar, it's nice to meet you." I said. "This is my.." I lost what I was going to say, because girlfriend wasn't really a true title in Skyrim and only Ralof would understand it.

"We are together, he means." Ariella said, saving me. "Ariella. A pleasure."

Aela nodded with a broad smile.

"Oh ho! More to celebrate!" Ralof said obnoxiously loud. "Come, let's get to the palace."

I nodded to him, and followed him as he turned around. I had a small party, after already dropping my army off on the inner most gates of the city. They would be busy erecting tents. Ralof had already had massive amounts of firewood brought in for the army before our arrival. All my army had to do was set up around the massive fire pits he dug, and light it.

This would not be permanent.

In the next few days, we would move into Fort Greymoor with Ariella and the College of Winterhold. Ralof assured us it would be big enough to house everyone. I wondered how much it was scaled up compared to the games. If my experiences in this world were to be believed, it would be massive.

Just like this city.

Ralof nudged me as I got close. "I smelled you on her when I hugged her." He said when he leaned close. "Dragonslayer."

"You know how it is in the beginning." I shrugged, ignoring the title he called me by.

"Oh do I." Ralof said with a lecherous grin. I could imagine how primal it would be for two werewolves. They must destroy furniture, regularly.

"Dragonslayer, huh?" I asked. My curiosity got the better of me. I wondered if tales of my deeds had spread yet.

"Oh yes. It is odd, no? We grew up hearing about Dragonborn, Dovahkiin. And now, they call you dragonslayer. Appropriate, I think. It implies you can kill both Dovah, and Dovahkiin." Ralof said, explaining it.

I smiled, knowing parts of my childhood dreams had already become true. And I was barely twenty in this life.

"Don't think I haven't heard of the Golden Wolf." I commented back with his own nickname across the land.

Ralof smiled even more broadly than before. "We have come a long way since hitting each other with sticks and dreaming of going on an adventure." He retorted.

"That is putting it mildly. You are doing so much more for the people." I told him, thinking about how rich Whiterun was and the innovation he was pioneering.

"The things I do will impact Skyrim, you are right. But you my friend, I can feel you'll change all of Nirn. Ariella too." Ralof said as he smacked me on the back.

I tried to meet all of the eyes from the crowd staring at us, but I could not. We passed too many people.

As Ralof and I fell into a comfortable silence, I looked around the city. The Plains district was aptly named. It was still mostly flat, although we were beginning to climb uphill the further we moved into the city.

Markarth, and Solitude had blown me away with the size and scale of the cities in Skyrim. Why then, was I surprised that Whiterun was bigger than all of them.

In the middle of the city, Dragonsreach rose into the clouds, built on the mountain that the city inhabited. The wind district wrapped all the way around the mountain, occupied by prominent businesses and people just below nobles.

The plains district wrapped all around the base of the mountain, although it wasn't completely occupied yet. The walls were built, as were the roads, but the population had yet to expand towards the north side of the mountain. I expected that to change in the next few years underneath Ralof's leadership.

I could barely see the base of Dragonsreach underneath the clouds.

And it was a long walk.

* * *

It was impossible to describe how it felt standing on the Great Porch, leaning on the railing and looking down to the clouds below me. It was, quite possibly, the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I did my best to memorize the scene below me.

I took a deep breath of air, and embraced the cold that bit my cheeks and my lungs. It was harder to breathe, but I grew up in Skyrim, it was always difficult to breathe. The mountains were our territory. I felt at home on the Great Porch.

And the coffee that Ralof had been hoarding warmed my hands perfectly. I could barely think of a better place to be in that moment.

"Aren't you cold, love?" Ariella called out from behind me.

There was a blanket draped over my shoulders, but my bare chest was to the world. Yes, I was cold, but it was worth it.

"Yes ma'am." I answered as I turned around to move back inside. She had already dressed for the day and was looking as immaculate as ever.

It was not a short walk to the Great Hall, where breakfast was currently being served. Our hosts were already there, and finishing up breakfast.

"I remember the first time I saw it. I stayed out there for hours." Ralof commented as I sat down.

"It is remarkable." I agreed as I started loading my plate.

"When will you be off again?" Ralof asked. His bluntness was refreshing.

"We will be at Fort Greymoor, and settled by nightfall." I told him. There was still a lot to do to renovate the Fort. And we needed to do it before Winter truly settled in. It was already becoming too cold at night.

"Wise." Ralof said. "It is only a half day's march. If you push a horse, it becomes even quicker."

I nodded, hoping he was right. "I plan to push my men. It'll be their training for the day." I told him with a bit of a sadistic smile.

Ralof grinned also. "The Twins wait for you. We had some Companions acquire it from a particularly nasty cult. Funnily enough, there is an old Nord Maid that has been there as long as anyone can remember. Says she comes with the fort, no matter who occupies it. Agnis, she goes by."

I turned to Ariella. "Well, at least you don't have to pay for it to be cleaned."

She just shrugged.

"I hope she doesn't mind magicians."

* * *

"I don't give a shite about magicians, wizards, sorcerers, vampires, werewolves, bandits ...need I go on child?"

Ariella stared at the woman with a fuming respect. I could tell she wanted to kill the woman already, because of the nuisance she was sure to be. But she respected that mindset all the same, and saw the woman's value.

"No ma'am." Ariella responded finally, once she recovered enough.

"Good, now I've got cleaning to do. This damn fort is always so filthy."

And just like that Agnis moved on through the Fort towards her next destination. I couldn't help but wonder how she would be the most intriguing thing in a fort full of magicians.

I had no idea how a woman that old could keep up with a fort this big. When Ralof mentioned it would hold everyone comfortably, he wasn't wrong.

The walls were designed to be barracks, and although parts were destroyed, there was more than enough space to hold my men. It would make for assigning quadrants easy, as well as guard duties.

This was the place we would occupy for winter. This was the place we would receive the reinforcements from Helgen at. This is a place that Ariella might call home. It would be perfect, and I just happened to have about three thousand men on my payroll that needed a job for the winter while the war was put on pause.

It struck me as odd, that a world so technologically behind my own, was smarter when it came to warfare in mountainous, cold regions.

How many armies marched into Russia, unprepared for it's winters? Napoleon probably being the most prominent. Hitler, etc.

Skyrim was similar, but Nords knew this, and obeyed Skyrim's wishes when winter rolled around. One did not make war in winter, for you would not only fight your opponent, but Skyrim herself.

Maybe that's another reason Miraak and Ulfric didn't mind losing so many men at the Battle of Helgen. They knew that soon we would be forced into a peace of sorts, and they could recover.

I would not let our advantage leave us, however. Already, men and supplies were being shipped to Helgen. By the time the fighting began anew, the Legion would have another army, almost completely trained. Estimates told me that it would be around ten thousand, come Spring.

That's the army that I would conquer with, I could feel it.

So I did not mind the lapse in fighting that winter would bring. It would allow me time to build up Fort Greymoor, and train. Who knew, maybe a city would pop up around the school Ariella planned to build.

"What now?" Ariella asked as I looked around the broken frame of Fort Greymoor.

"Let's get to work."

* * *

"Men, you have earned yourself a vacation!" I screamed at the three thousand men in front of me.

My small army was gathered inside the walls of our newest home.

"Haaahhhh!" My army greeted me, happy with the news.

They didn't know how wrong they were.

"Are you fucked in the head?" I called out to them, immediately cutting them down.

"Yes!" My army replied.

I actually laughed at that. For most of my army to chant that back to me, told me that they were used to the verbal abuse I subjected them to.

I chuckled, and it echoed through the crowd and off the walls. I continued the flow of magicka to my throat.

"Good, then!" I said. "Since you are still on the Legion's payroll, we will put you to work. The Legion owes The College of Winterhold much, and we will repay that debt. Fort Greymoor has been renamed to The College of Whiterun I have been told. Well, I don't give a shit for names to be truthful."

"Hah!" My army replied.

"But I will not live in a shit hole." I yelled.

"Hah!"

"So we will rebuild this shit hole, into a proper home for the College of Whiterun, a friend of the Legion. Do you consent!" I did not ask a question. Everyone knew it was rhetorical. I would put these men to work.

"Dragonslayer!"

I smiled at the agreement. "Good! If you were skilled in a trade before the war, see your commanding officer. If you want to learn a new trade, see your commanding officer. I will give you the option to choose, but be warned, I will assign you to other trades for efficiency's sake, if need be. After this war is won, you will have a means to provide for your family, beyond killing other men."

"HAAAAAHHHH!" My army cheered for a couple of moments, and I allowed them their fun before I raised my hand and quieted them.

"Our first task will be the walls, you will be assigned duties by your superior officers. Get to work you lazy bastards."

* * *

"It's a good thing we planned this in advance. But I'm still not sure we'll have enough materials." Ariella said.

Mirabelle Ervine, myself, Ariella, and Enden stood in the tallest room at the top of the small tower of the College of Whiterun. Off to the side, the ethereal form of Ralof stood. He emanated from the massive crystal attached to the wall of the room.

A table sat in front of all of us. On the table, building plans for the College sat.

"What do you need?" Ralof asked.

"A quarry right beside the damn College." Ariella answered quickly. "Riverwood is sending a steady supply of wood, and has been for a while. We have enough metal. I just need the damn stone."

"How did we miscalculate this?" Ralof asked, curious.

They had poured over the plans, almost every night for two months during our approach of Whiterun. I wanted to know the answer to that question too.

"Not only has the Legion overperformed, labor-wise. We have taken in almost every worker that comes knocking." Ariella said. "If we can take advantage of this. We can do more than just renovate the castle. I can have the school up and running by summer. That's two years in advance." Ariella exclaimed.

It would be a massive step. Not only for the College, but for the hold, the people of Skyrim, how people saw magick, and most importantly, the mass production of potions. Something that hasn't been done in Nirn yet.

Education and Health Care. Two major aspects of improvement that could catapult this world into a new age.

That doesn't even consider what we could do with magicka.

"I have an idea that is impossible right now." Ralof said. He was shockingly smart when it came to building. Not only building a fort, but building a hold, a country, an economy. It was amazing to watch.

"Can I make it possible?" Ariella asked. She knew his games by now. Ralof was constrained by two things on his plans, time and money. Ariella had the means to improve both with the College's resources.

"I have a cement plant. It's operational in a month." Ralof said.

"What is cement?" Mirabelle asked.

Ariella held up a hand to her number two in charge. "How does that help? I don't want a school made of concrete." Ariella responded.

"No, but you could use it for the foundation. I understand that you are tearing down sections at a time, and building it back up." Ralof said.

Ariella paused for a moment, thinking. "I'm listening."

"The cement you use for the foundation will take away at least a third of the stone you need. It'll also give you time to get more in, if need be." Ralof responded. Had he planned on presenting this option?

Ariella sat down in her chair and put her hands on her head. It was something she did if she was doing some very deep thinking, or calculations.

"Fuck that would work." Ariella said all of a sudden. "How can we get this plant up and running yesterday?"

"I need men, plain and simple. To get men, I need money. We poured a lot of our funds into securing a food supply for winter and the armies." Ralof explained. "The taxes we'll receive over the next few months have already been spoken for and I'm not dipping into the reserves just yet. Not just for you to get ahead of schedule."

It had taken a while for Ariella to open up to me about the inner workings of what we were now calling The College, instead of The College of Winterhold. Apparently the Council of Mages had agreed to the name change since there are now two different locations.

The College had an agenda since its founding. That agenda was to expand across Skyrim, and build more and more schools in the different holds. So they developed financial plans to make these plans possible. And this was thousands of years ago. So imagine what their money situation must look like after thousands of years of financial planning and frugal money management.

It was only because of the taboo against magicka that the College never developed the opportunity to expand. Then the Great Collapse happened and the prospect of expanding seemed impossible.

Now that she had the opportunity, Ariella was willing to spend every single gold coin to further the College's goals.

Ariella rolled her eyes at Ralof.

"Send me over an amount, along with the documents to give the College it's fair share of the company. If you are going to profit from this, so are we." Ariella said, getting down to the deal. She really wanted this school built.

Ralof smiled at her. His next line told me that he had been expecting this outcome, the sly devil.

"Get a scribe, I have the document in front of me. Does 32% of the company sound good?"

* * *

A/N: Boom!

The war is on hold, and people are going to work. Ralof is a financial monster, especially now that he is Jarl.

The College is rich. Mainly from dungeon dives and archeological finds. Will expand on this in later chapters, guys don't worry.

AND ARIELLA AND HADVAR ARE TOGETHER!

Let's talk in the reviews!


	25. Act III: Chapter 2

Hello everyone,

I have been doing a lot of writing on my own Fantasy novel. I'm about a fourth of the way done I think. And now that the world is established in my mind, and I know the direction we're heading, the words are flowing onto the page.

I'm actually really enjoying the book, and I think other people will too. Is it weird that I want to go the traditional publishing route, as opposed to publishing it myself? Idk, just something about a big name publisher picking the book makes me happy. I've done a fair amount of research on the topic, and know how hard it is. But that's fine.

Any readers out there have any tips on publishing?

On to the chapter.

Follow me on instagram at wtmcdonaldauthor!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

The snowflakes fell abnormally slow.

My mind recognized this, and the massive battle axe cutting in the air towards my head. Wuuthrad was an amazing weapon. It was too light for how big it actually was, and it never seemed to dull on the edges. Not to mention the skill that Ralof wielded it with.

I made sure to reinforce the King's Blade as I brought it up to deflect the blow. If I wasn't confident with the forging of the legendary weapon, I wouldn't have dared. But something about the King's Blade and Wuuthrad going toe to toe stirred my Nord heart.

I lashed out with my foot, and connected with Ralof's hip. It felt like kicking a mountain, but I kicked it. He tumbled away from me, but stayed on his feet. When he turned back to me, we began circling each other again.

I was reminded of the snow falling on my hair by the steam my breath was causing in the air.

"A moment." Ariella's voice cut through our spar.

I cut the flow of magicka to Mages Downfall and turned to her. She normally didn't interrupt our spars, because they rarely happened. The reasoning became apparent as I saw what was in her arms.

Well, there were two things in her arms. In her left arm, a four month old baby laid bundled up and looking around at the world. Most would think bringing a baby out in weather like this would be negligent, and harmful. But if you looked at the snowflakes falling towards her, you would notice them get redirected around Ariella's form. Herself, and the baby were in a localized pocket of warmer air, courtesy of her magick. It wasn't anything too impressive, just something closer to comfortable for the baby.

Best part about it, it costs less magicka than the lowest fire spell. Because what were the elemental spells beside temperature manipulation?

Truthfully, it was much more difficult than that. But it was a skill that Ariella perfected long ago.

In her right hand, a bundle of cloth in the familiar shape of a sword sat. That was curious.

_Did she get me a new sword?_

A part of me got a little excited. The King's Blade was an amazing weapon, designed for war. But our culture viewed it as a ceremonial thing. There was always the risk of it being damaged in the war. I admit that the possibility had caused me to be overly cautious at times. Truthfully, I shouldn't have deflected Wuuthrad with it. If met head on, there was no doubt in my mind that Wuuthrad would split the blade, or damage it beyond use.

It had been many wars ago that the King's Blade was actually wielded in battle. Normally, whoever held the King's trust would keep it with the army, but never draw it. I knew that the blade was the best option for me to be able to clash with Miraak's or Ulfric's blades.

But I would not wield the blade forever. Eventually, it would return to its owner.

And then what?

"You were supposed to wait for me, Ralof." Ariella said as she crossed the distance from the main entrance into the castle to the sparring yard Ralof and I occupied.

"I assumed you would be busy with Siegfried." Ralof responded, not ashamed at all.

"Your son is very cute, Ralof. But not enough to distract me from this." Ariella said as she looked down at the auburn headed, blue eyed baby in her arms.

"And what is this?" I asked, ready to find out if the sword was for me.

"A present." Ariella said with a smile. "I figured you wouldn't be able to wield the King's Blade forever. And I just happened to run across some great materials recently."

_Materials, huh? _

She reached out and offered me the sword. I grabbed it, and leaned over to kiss her. It was a brief kiss.

I sheathed the King's Blade and swiftly went about untying the cloth wrapped around the blade. It was the hilt that gave it away. I knew what type of blade it was.

The hilt and crossguard was obviously made out of ebony. There was a strip of a pale wood where the palm went that I knew would be the same color as the blade.

I tore the rest of the cloth off to see the sheath was made out of a scaly material. It was made out of dragonscale. That cemented what the blade was made out of.

I unsheathed the blade quickly, as I got excited to see it. The distinct light brown color of dragonbone reassured my assumptions from earlier.

Ariella had a Dragonbone sword made for me. I wondered which of the dragons it was made from.

"Alduin, if you're wondering." Ariella said as she saw me examining the blade.

"It's beautiful." I told her.

The design was not like the games. In the games, the dragonbone sword was not straight and did not look like a normal blade. In the games it looked like someone carved a sword out of the dragonbone. And not a skilled carver.

This blade was obviously forged from magic. The blade was straight, and without blemish. The edge looked so ridiculously sharp that I was afraid to test it. Maybe she helped a smith forge it?

"How did you forge it to be so smooth?" I asked her as I tested the sword like my uncle used to.

I stepped back, and gave the blade a swipe through the air. It was light. As in, too light for it to feel real.

"With magick. Almost all of it was done with magicka. It is at least four times as light as normal steel, but I have yet to be able to break it." Ariella said with a proud smile. "The enchantments on it might be one of my finest works."

I sent her a look asking her to explain. She obliged. "Extreme durability and sharpness. Fire enchantment like your previous swords. Not much else to be honest. But the durability and sharpness has to be the best out there."

Truth be told, I didn't really need anything else on it. As long as it could hold up to the stress I put it under, that was the main thing. The fire enchantment was really just a bonus anyway.

"It's amazing, love. Thank you." I told her as I sheathed the blade and moved to kiss her again.

"Bah, let's test it out!" Ralof exclaimed. "I didn't come down to watch you two swap spit. I came to fight!"

* * *

"It is coming along nicely." Ralof said.

We were busy touring the grounds of The College of Whiterun. It was another reason he had come to visit us, despite his busy schedule. Although, since it was winter, he had less projects and things to do as Jarl. Everyone mostly waited out the winter, so there were less problems.

"Yes. Now that the Grand Hall is finished, we can start expanding into the main courtyard." I answered as we looked to the tower in front of us.

We stood on the walls, at the very front gate, looking down at the grounds. We had made tremendous time with the renovation of the castle. With over a thousand men working, a lot of dirt could get moved, quickly, and a lot of concrete could get poured.

The main tower was now seven stories tall, instead of the three stories it was previously. And the marble it was made out of was shone bright against the winter sun. Each stone was enchanted with the same enchantment that held the College of Winterhold together during the Great Calamity.

Great, stained glass windows peaked out from the rooms of the tower, adding beauty to the otherwise white tower.

I saw Ralof look down to the Courtyard. It was massive. If you were to stand in the middle of the courtyard, you could walk a hundred yards in any direction before you hit a wall.

Two hundred yards in front of us, right next to the Grand Hall, two slabs of concrete were already poured. These were for two additional towers that would extend all the way to the fourth story of the main tower.

The first two floors would be independent from the rest of the towers, but the third and fourth stories would join with the other towers. The third and fourth floors would be used for classrooms and would be where most of the activity of the College happened.

I could picture the structure now, and it would be beautiful. It would be as if an entirely different castle existed, thirty feet in the air.

"And after that?" Ralof asked.

"Then it should be operational." I answered.

"Before spring?" Ralof continued with the line of questioning.

"Yes." I told him simply.

"Will they plan on expanding after that?" Ralof asked.

"If Ariella gets her way, then this campus will dwarf the one in Winterhold. But that will have to wait until after the war." I answered quickly. Ariella had such massive plans for the education of the world.

I wondered what Skyrim would look like in a hundred years, two hundred years? This world was on the cusp of becoming something truly special. Something beyond the wars that typically plagued Tamriel.

"Being around you two, makes me doubt my path." I told him, seemingly out of nowhere. Before he could respond I continued. "I can already see how life will change in the decades to come. It will be glorious."

"You are the most important piece of the puzzle, my friend." Ralof consoled me.

"How is that? I can't see it." I asked.

"The Aldmeri." Ralof answered confidently. "First, they take away Talos. And they aren't even the ones in charge. You know how elitist the society is. Once they see what we are doing, they'll take away magick from us. Magick is the key for this world, as science and technology was for ours. But with them in charge, it will be confined to the ruling class. Elves will rule over us with magick."

"But we're striving for unity through magick. Surely the Aldmeri could appreciate that." I said, a little unsure.

"They do not see it that way. They believe themselves superior, in every way. We are unfit to rule in their minds. They will do it for us. Do not get blinded by Ulfric and Miraak, they're fighting a losing war. I do not see it being possible, now that Cyrodiil has become involved. The real threats are watching Skyrim like a hawk." Ralof told me.

"But if we just had a little more time, it would be too late." I said. It was a thought I was having lately. If we only just had a little more time to build supply lines, proper infrastructure, then Skyrim could outstrip the world quickly.

"You don't have time."

I didn't recognize the feminine voice, and it was way too close to me for comfort. I drew my new sword, and was already swinging towards the direction the voice came from.

Ralof reacted the same, and he sent a back hand towards the voice.

My sword was stopped by another, while Ralof's fist was ducked, causing him to miss.

"Peace. I mean you no harm." The blonde haired imperial woman said.

I knew who it was immediately by the skin tight black suit that clung to her frame. It was a nightingale, an elite member of the Thieves Guild.

Ever since I confirmed the fact that Ralof and Ariella were reincarnations, I began to deduce the storylines they represented from the games. Almost all of the story lines were accounted for, all but the Thieves Guild. I was willing to bet a lot of money that this woman was a reincarnation that was thrown into that exact storyline.

"My name is Vex. And I am like you."

* * *

"Where do we start?" I asked the three other people in the room.

As soon as it was confirmed who Ralof and I were talking to, and that she was not hostile, Vex asked to speak with us in private, including Ariella. So that is how four people that were not exactly from this world found themselves in a room dominated by an awkward silence.

"Introductions?" Ralof offered, a little jokingly.

"I already know all there is to know about the three of you." Vex revealed. "So I will introduce myself."

I wondered how long she had been keeping tabs on us, and how we hadn't noticed if she really did know everything there was to know.

"I woke up one day, years ago with a different set of memories in my skull. Memories that knew too much of this world. Except, they were not exactly accurate." Vex began.

"You don't say." Ralof commented sarcastically.

"The exact same day, a dark elf joined the Guild. I believe you all have met him." Vex continued, almost without pause. Obviously, she was used to ignoring sarcasm.

"He was at the Challenge, with Ulfric and Miraak." I said, picking up exactly who she was talking about.

She nodded at me. "Yes. The name he gave us doesn't matter because it wasn't his real name. It took me a long time to figure out exactly who he was. He was born to the Dunmer house of Dres. A very prominent family. His tracks are spread throughout the events of Tamriel. The Nerevarine, the Oblivion Crisis, anything over the past four hundred years."

"What is his name?" I asked, trying to process all the information.

"Garan Marethi, Vampire Lord and head of Clan Volkihar." Vex said without hesitation.

"How do you know all of this?" Ariella interrupted.

Vex paused for a moment, and looked at Ariella. She looked unsure of whether or not to answer the question. "Much like you two, we found solace in the fact that we were both of another world. We were lovers, for a brief part of his life." Vex answered.

It was obvious to me that the topic was old, but not old enough that she was completely over it. It seemed like she was coming through on the other side of getting over him.

I became suspicious of the woman, immediately. If he held sway over her once, could he do it again? Would she betray us for him, if he asked?

"What happened?" I asked. It was a simple question, one I knew she would pick up on. I wanted to know about the fall out.

"He started to confide in me. He told me of his past, he told me of the places he had seen and all of the good he did. I thought he was nothing more than a roguish, handsome, thief. I was wrong. He was the listener for the assassin's guild for a long time, until they began to bore him. He murdered them all, then. He feeds on anyone he pleases, although he particularly loves teenage girls. In every sense you can think of. That was the last straw." Vex revealed.

Why was she telling us all of this? Why be so forthcoming with the information when you only just met us? What was her angle?

"I regret that I didn't kill him then." Ariella said.

I could feel Ralof's rage at the information. Women in Skyrim are viewed as some of the most important people. They raised men, when fathers died too soon. They held households together, with sheer will. They fought for what they believed in, more than the men of the province most of the time. Their worth was known in this world.

"So you confronted him?" I asked, a little hopeful that she didn't encourage or even allow such behavior.

"Yes. He nearly killed me." Vex said as she ran a hand from shoulder to hip. "And if I am allowed to brag, that is no easy feat."

"Good. You haven't once mentioned our other threats, Garan. Why is that?" I asked.

In my mind, the Vampire Lord was the least of my worries.

"He has done many things in his life, but once he got a taste of ruling, he became addicted to it. He plans on using the coming wars, to become emperor." Vex revealed, finally.

My eyebrows furrowed. "How does he plan on doing that?" I asked.

I didn't see it possible for him to achieve this particular goal. He would have to go through all of us to achieve that. Miraak would never allow him to even get close to the throne, and I knew who I would pick in a fight.

Vex looked at me, and tilted her head. Then it was like a lightbulb went off. "Ah, you don't realize… How do I say this? You may have held your own against him in the daylight, but nighttime is a completely different story. Forgive the pun, but the difference is literally day and night."

Ralof actually snorted at the terrible pun. It just made me a little more interested. I always assumed the dark elf from the challenge was the least of our worries. Sure, he held his own against Tullius in the north, forcing the general into a stalemate in no less than three different battles, but I didn't expect him to do much more than that.

Honestly, I would expect Ralof to tear into the man.

"His magicka is one of the strongest I've ever seen, besides you and Serana. And that is when the sun is at its highest. At night, I'm positive he would rival you, Ariella." Vex continued.

"Why hasn't he acted yet? If this is the case, they could have won the North before winter." I asked, trying to pick holes in this story.

"Miraak has him on a tight leash. They never expected the war to begin before winter. But once Spring comes, I fear he will be let loose." Vex answered.

"I still don't buy that he could defeat Miraak when it's all said and done." I told her, not seeing the true threat she did.

"Have you forgotten about the Tyranny of the Sun?" Vex asked as if I was mentally challenged. "Assume the storyline is over. What weapons does he have?"

I knew the answer. "Auriel's bow, an Elder Scroll, and blood tipped arrows." I said.

It dawned on me. What if everything came down to a single battle? Everything on the line. All the armies in one spot. All the cards on the table.

And then he shoots an arrow into the sun.

If was as dangerous as she believed, and he timed it perfectly. There was a very high percentage that he could succeed in killing us all and taking control. And even on top of that, what if he had a thousand vampires waiting for the sun to go out, amongst the ranks.

That would be catastrophic.

My hand pinched the bridge of my nose. "You deal with one threat, and another comes up." I sighed as I said it.

"Ulfric, Miraak, The Aldmeri, and now Garan. We have a lot to deal with." Ralof said, agreeing with me.

"There is some consolidation." Vex said.

"What is that?" Ariella asked her.

"Me." Vex answered.

"Well, what do you bring to the table?" Ralof asked.

Vex smirked. "I have the most comprehensive spy network across Tamriel. Even on Summerset Isle." She answered.

Ralof was not that impressed. "That's it?"

Our new ally sighed. "Once I became Nightingale, I knew the Princes had their hold one me. I will never be free of them, my soul will not see Sovngarde, or some other heaven. So I started dabbling in Conjuration." Vex began.

She twisted her hand, and an ethereal sword appeared for a moment, before turning to five different weapons quickly.

"Did you know that it is possible to give any form to even the most basic of atronach?" Vex asked mischievously.

"That kind of information, should not be spoken of so freely." Ariella hissed at the woman in front of her.

"Don't worry, It is my soul that will suffer, not yours." Vex bit back.

"It's unnatural." Ariella responded.

"So is Durnehviir, but he claims he could give all but Alduin a run for his money. A powerful dragon is an amazing ally. Especially an undead one." Vex hinted.

Ralof caught onto that quickly. "You can summon Durnehviir?" He asked, incredulous.

"He taught me a lot, just for the opportunity to touch something outside of the Soul Cairn. He's the one who taught me to forge Contracts." Vex answered.

Ariella flinched at how Vex used the word Contract. So she must have known too.

"You are dragonborn?" I asked. Didn't you need to be dragonborn to summon Durnehviir?

"Unfortunately not. The only way I can describe it is like a 'power' from the games. Similar to wolf man right there." Vex said, pointing towards Ralof.

Ralof showed her his teeth at the name.

I turned to Ariella. "We have a dragon now…" I said with a shrug.

Vex didn't stop there though. Apparently, she had become very very talented at making Contracts. Even if I had no idea what that meant. But I did know what she meant by her next sentence.

"That's not all. Ever heard of a Daedric Titan?"

* * *

A/N: Boom!

I was planning on introducing Vex this chapter for a while now, and someone literally called it out in the reviews recently. Am I that obvious?

What do we think?

Dragonbone sword. The College of Whiterun. And Vex enters the game.

Let's talk in the reviews!


	26. Act III: Chapter 3

Hello everyone,

As you may have noticed, I have been absent the past couple of weeks with my stories. For that, all I can say is that the holidays are approaching, and my family likes to do things around this time of the year.

That doesn't mean this will be a normal occurrence, but if I miss a day of uploads every once in a while, don't be terribly surprised.

With that being said, Happy Halloween!

Authors note at the bottom.

Follow me on instagram at wtmcdonaldauthor!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

Spring is my favorite time of the year. It brings warmth to even the coldest reaches of Skyrim. More importantly, it brings life to the most beautiful province in all of Tamriel.

I suppose that was a personal preference.

This particular spring brought more than just life to the College of Whiterun. It brought a line of soldiers, marching into the school that doubled as a fortress. By the count of the very loyal man I left in Helgen, the number was just under twelve thousand men, green men, but very well trained green men.

Just over fourteen thousand men. By the standards of my old life, and really even the armies of this world, that was small. But for a single province not known to field more than fifty thousand total… that was huge. And then to factor in the discipline and training.

I will take Skyrim with this army.

"That is a very intense look, Dragonslayer." Vex, an annoyingly constant companion said beside me. I did not jump anymore. Just as she chose to reveal herself, I could sense her. I had become very good at knowing when she was coming, although I knew it was more because she allowed it than anything.

"Vacation is over, Vex. War has come to Skyrim again." I answered, a little solemnly.

"You seem sad." Vex observed, curiously.

"I haven't had to kill a man in four months." I answered.

"Mmm, you are too good a man Hadvar. It might become detrimental." Vex complimented, and simultaneously doubted me at the same time.

"It is his best attribute." Ariella decided to speak up from her position beside me.

The three of us stood on the outermost wall of the College of Whiterun, looking down at the marching soldiers that continued to pour into the school.

I smiled at Ariella's compliment.

"Conqueror's are not nice men. Conqueror's are dangerous men." Vex disagreed.

"It is not possible to be a nice man, without being a dangerous man." I replied. The words came out as natural as possible. It was something I had thought of for a long time. A remnant of a past life.

Vex snorted. "Of course you can." She replied, arrogantly.

"Nice is a choice." I explained. "If you are not dangerous, then it is not a choice. You are not nice, you are just harmless. And that, is the worst thing you can be, in a world like this. It is all about the choice, Vex."

She stilled, suddenly seeing the logic in the argument. Obviously, it was something she must have never thought of. It was such a simple thing to realize, and yet nobody ever considered it. Most people that are considered nice, are really just harmless people, prone to becoming victims for the truly dangerous, not nice people that existed in any universe.

"So that is your secret then." Vex whispered, as if coming to a conclusion.

"That I am dangerous?" I wondered.

"Wise." Vex answered. "Wisdom is your edge over your opponents. I have been trying to piece together the puzzle that is the Legion's success. Objectively, you should have been crushed in the Challenge, let alone the Battle of Helgen."

"Truth be told, it is the people around me that have caused our success." I said, and finally looked in her direction. She was staring at me, not at the men on the ground.

"And that is very wise, Hadvar."

I just smirked and went back to looking at the men marching below. The three of us fell into a silence, then.

"I have decided that you have my loyalty." Vex said after some time.

The statement came out of nowhere. Mainly because she addressed my main doubt about the woman. She was a thief, through and through. I knew to keep her at arm's distance. For all I knew, she was feeding information to Ulfric, Miraak, or her previous lover Garan.

But I believed her. Maybe I shouldn't have, but I believed her when she let those words leave her lips.

"That is a major relief." I told her honestly, releasing my breath into the air in front of me.

"They will no longer split up." Vex continued, ignoring me. "They have no use for stalling the legion anymore. They know it will only lead to defeat."

"One army then?" I asked, not bothering to accuse her of withholding information. I had always suspected it, over the past months since I got to know the woman.

"Yes. Thirty-thousand men, and a total of six dragons, although that could be more." Vex answered.

"Six?!" I hissed, genuinely surprised at the amount.

"Ulfric absorbed Alduin's power, thanks to you. Alduin had the knowledge to raise them from the dead. They don't even have to bend them to their will anymore. They will fight for him willingly." Vex continued, ignoring my rising anger.

I calmed myself down very quickly. With the precautions we took over the winter, dragons didn't matter in the grand scheme of things. Sure, they would change how we approached battles, and the speed with which our armies moved. But I have killed two already, and I can do it again.

"Do you know their plans?" I asked, once again not bothering to accuse her of anything. She owed us nothing, truth be told. She could operate the thieves guild and live her life without the war ever affecting her.

"Whiterun." Vex said simply. "They know that Tullius and his force in the north are nothing in the grand scheme of things. Solitude isn't even that important, now that you hold the Kings Blade. You and Ralof are the heart of the Legion's presence in Skyrim." Vex explained, while turning to Ariella. "Sorry darling, magick is still a long ways off from being accepted in Skyrim."

Ariella smirked. "We'll see about that."

"So they plan on taking Whiterun? With their full force?" I asked. "That seems entirely too risky."

"You think they don't know that Cyrodiil has become involved now? They can not wait any longer. If they have any chance of taking and holding Skyrim, it needs to be as soon as possible." Vex answered.

"It makes sense." Ariella cut in. "If they take Whiterun, the rest of Skyrim just falls. Tullius might as well withdraw the legion immediately."

"Exactly. And when Cyrodiil recovers, and sends an invasion force, they will be met with a bigger army, with more dragons. And this time, you three will be dead." Vex agreed.

I thought about it for a while, and put myself in their shoes. I would consider the idea of taking the center of the province, sure. But would I prioritize it? Over Solitude? If so, why?

Food, first and foremost. They have to be getting low on supplies. Whiterun, especially now that magick has started to become involved in the local farming, is the main food supplier for the province. In a couple of years, it would be possible to become independent from the rest of Tamriel, in terms of food.

Cut off the steady stream of supplies from Helgen would be another benefit.

A central location, that was worth a lot when it came to armies and battles. With dragons, it would be trivial to defend.

A lot of things would become trivial with dragons.

The more I thought about it, the more benefits I found. Solitude held almost no weight, beside the end goal. But you could acquire it without ever having to go north of Rorikstead.

"There is another thing you should know." Vex said, interrupting my thoughts.

I gave her my attention, but didn't verbally tell her to continue.

"While you have been building down here, they have been building up there." Vex said.

"What do you mean?" I asked. Her statement could be made for a thousand things.

"Ships, caravel's, carrack's, etc. Designs that made it possible to map our previous world, and dominate it." Vex finally explained.

I sighed, relieved they weren't building some type of forge that would bind the daedra to their will. That would be just my luck.

"That doesn't worry me so much." I told her truthfully. "That is for the future. Skyrim is all land, and those ships will not affect how we win or lose this war. That will be a deciding factor in how Miraak plans on conquering the rest of Tamriel, however." I finished.

"I agree, just thought I would tell you everything they have been up to." Vex said. "They only have about two or three of each right now anyway."

"This world is about to change." I said, digesting all the information I was being told.

Ariella nodded, and decided to finally intervene in our conversation.

"Rapidly."

* * *

"There has been a lot of activity on the Summerset Isle's recently." Rex, the Emperor's personal battlemage said.

I rubbed the bridge of my nose, and didn't get a chance to answer. Tullius did it for me.

"How much?" Tullius asked.

"Enough for me to deem you all worthy of the information." Rex answered him.

Ralof snorted. It was an odd thing to see an ethereal projection do. Ariella and I sat in her personal office. A stand held all the crystals needed for a discussion such as this. Tullius in Morthal, Ralof in Whiterun, and Rex in Cyrodiil.

"The gods are intent on seeing us fall, aren't they?" Tullius asked, rhetorically.

"The gods care not for our world, unless it is to conquer it. They do not care about the squabbles of races." Rex retorted.

"Now, has anyone thought of a good battle plan for your coming war?" Rex asked, as if he had no hand in the war at all. He probably thought himself powerful enough to survive anything.

"Wait." I answered, quickly. I had already done a fair amount of thinking, since the information that the stormcloaks would march for Whiterun, had been revealed.

Tullius, and the rest of the participants of the conversation, nodded.

"I concur." Rex agreed. "Although I would like to hear your reasoning."

"Dragons." I answered just as quickly as before. "We have ballista we can carry all around the province, but why? There is too much risk. Would we even have enough time to construct them before dragons began raining down fire upon our forces?"

"No it is much more efficient for us to stay near Whiterun. Where there is enough manned ballista to bring down a hundred dragons. It is best to wait." I finished.

"Smart enough. Although I do wonder. If this Miraak is as smart as you think him to be, why on Nirn do you think him dumb enough to walk into Whiterun? If he does, he will have a plan for these ballista you are putting all of your faith in. Perhaps, he even has plans for the three of you." Rex said.

Rex's words cut into me. What was I missing?

* * *

"We're missing something." I said as I put my napkin down.

"Have you considered that it might be Miraak that is missing something?" Ariella asked. "We have been over it a thousand times."

"I'm sorry love. I know you're tired of hearing about it." I said as I reached for my glass of water.

"You're sure you don't want any wine? You always drink a glass at dinner." Ariella said, changing the subject like I wanted her to. "I don't know what else they put in it, but it's addictive."

I tilted my head. Addictive? Why would she think that?

Ariella let out a huge yawn, and stretched.

My eyebrows scrunched, as I noted another odd thing. We only just ate dinner and she was already tired? The sun had only just sat beyond the horizon. I shrugged it off, it was ok to be a little tire. Most of our days were in preparation of the war to come.

Ariella opened her eyes after her yawn, and shook her head. "Wow, I am really tired all of a sudden."

The nagging sensation in my gut made me uncomfortable. "What kind of wine did you say that was?" I asked.

Another yawn. "Not sure. It was a gift from some noble in Whiterun." Ariella said in between two other yawns. Now she was frowning too.

"It's not uncommon." Ariella said, shaking her head one more time. Her sentence was much more coherent and put together compared to before.

I felt her magicka grace the air in front of us, and she directed it towards the wine in front of her. I had to duck, as the glass shot towards my head, and away from her. I heard a crash of it hitting the wall behind me.

"Shit. I'm sorry, Hadvar." Ariella said. At the same time her magicka retreated into her body. "There is definitely something in…"

The door opened to the room.

"Tranquilizer."

The voice hit my bones, and vibrated them seductively. Next came the fear, courtesy of a massive amount of magicka sweeping through the room.

I am ashamed to admit that it took me more than a moment to shake the spell off, and immediately go into Mages Downfall out of habit.

There was a figure that moved through the room as fast as anything I had ever seen, with or without magickal enhancement. It was similar to how Ralof moved without his armor and massive weapon.

I jumped out of my seat, towards Ariella.

With my reaction time enhanced, I had plenty of time to realize that I wouldn't reach her in time. And that she was currently beginning to slump forward, towards the table in front of her. She was completely unconscious.

All of this couldn't have happened in a total of two seconds. But it became obvious that I wouldn't even reach it halfway down the table in time to reach her.

So I reached out with my magicka to grab her, confident that I could protect her this way.

My magicka was slapped away and dominated without hardly any effort on the intruders part.

And then, he was holding her head up by her hair with a knife at her neck.

I stopped moving, and put my hands up. I was five feet away from them. That might as well have been a hundred yards when you factored in the speeds the vampire lord in front of me was capable of moving.

It was Garan.

His bright orange hair stood out on his dark skin. It was his eyes, and ethereal beauty that gave him away, however. His eyes glowed a bright, supernatural, orange. They were so striking.

"I expected you to drink with her." He said.

I couldn't find the words to tell him that I would do whatever he wanted me to. I couldn't bear to look at anything but the razor sharp blade centimeters from Ariella's neck.

"The things I would have done to you two were going to make Molag Bal smile, Hadvar." Garan said.

My heart thumped in my ears, and panic raced through me. I could endure all of those things, but I couldn't imagine him touching Ariella. It sent revulsion through me.

Finally, the anger ran through my system.

"But now that I am actually here, with two of the most dangerous people in the world, I can't help but think of a better idea. Miraak is sure not to like it. He just wanted you dead." Garan continued to talk, as if I cared for his words.

All I could picture was cutting out his organs and making him eat them. How dare he touch her!

"But that is so ...boring. And if there is anything I hate, it's boredom." Garan continued his monologue.

"I will kill you." I said, before I could ponder if it was a bad idea or not. My threats were useless at the moment.

"I doubt that, Hadvar. But I don't have too much time. You have a choice now. Either Ariella receives Molag Bal's gift, or you do." Garan's smile was manic. It was unnatural.

Dread pooled in my stomach.

"It's so poetic, isn't it." Garan continued. "The two of you, so used to standing in the light and being heralded as heroes. Well one of you will embrace the darkness tonight. One of you will become like me."

It was worse than that, my mind told itself. Ariella and I have both done our best to stay out of the view of the Daedra. It was a reason we never chased after conjuration. Conjuration pulled straight from the planes of oblivion.

It would have put our souls in the hands of gods who didn't care for us. Sovngarde would be out of reach. This was more than just vampirism. This was choosing Molag Bal.

Garan's knife moved so fast, I barely tracked it. He stabbed it straight into Ariella's stomach, and pulled it out quickly. Blood squirted everywhere.

"No!" I basically screamed.

Ariella didn't even flinch at the blow.

"Gut shot, but she will bleed out. You will have to make a decision now." Garan said. His face was no longer manic or smiling, but intense.

I had no doubt in my mind he would kill her if I didn't decide. He might have already, if there was poison on the blade. I needed to heal her immediately. I didn't have time. If only I had more time to get her away from him. I could fight him. I know I could.

His hand twitched. I panicked.

"Me!" I yelled, deciding.

There was really no decision to be made. Of course it would be me. I would damn my soul for the woman, of that there is no doubt. I was just searching for a way out of this mess.

Garan's magic pulled an empty glass on to his side of the table, where Ariella sat. He sliced his palm quickly and poured it into the cup.

I stared at the blood pouring out of her stomach. There was way too much for where he stabbed her. I knew that the blade must have been enchanted or something to cause that damage.

My gut twisted, and panic ran through me faster.

No, no, no.

The cup floated in front of my face.

"You have ten seconds." Garan said.

I let Mage's Downfall envelope me, as deep as I could. The world almost slowed to a halt. How could I get out of this situation? How could I stop him?

Magicka? No, he had proved that he was my superior in that. At least at night.

Could I call for help? No, I only had ten seconds.

I definitely couldn't close the distance.

"That spell will not help you."

I heard him say it, except it was said at a speed that I could comprehend, deep inside Mages Downfall. The implications …he could speak this fast, while I was enhanced beyond what most could even think at.

"Time's up." Garan said, and his hand twitched again.

I downed the cup and threw it away.

Garan smiled wide, and let Ariella's head drop onto the plate in front of her. It was so demeaning, and uncaring.

"Enjoy, Hadvar." Garan said, and he raced towards the door.

I moved to Ariella's side immediately, ignoring the man. I had to heal her.

I made it to her side, when my body underwent its transformation. Pain like hadn't ever felt racked my body.

It was as if someone poured magma into my veins.

All of my muscles tensed up. I couldn't see it, but I could feel myself expanding, getting bigger. My bones broke, and restructured themselves before I could react.

Then, it was like a switch flipped in my brain, and the pain turned into euphoria. Finally I was free of that terrible human cage.

I opened my eyes, and truly saw the world. Color, unlike I had ever seen graced my eyes. I could even see another human, standing in the doorway, looking terrified. I smiled, at least I tried to.

They should be terrified, I was fear incarnate. I was invincible. And they would be mine to devour. I was feeling hungry anyway. I could hear their heart beat in their chest. I could smell the spot on their neck that called to me.

I moved forward, only to be stopped by an ethereal set of chains grabbing my arms and my wings, my beautiful wings. I hissed. They were burning into me. Was it silver?

"Don't kill him, it's Hadvar! Just hold him there until I can heal Ariella." A vaguely familiar meat sack said. That would be the first I killed.

Hadvar?

My curiosity piqued at the name. It was familiar. Hadvar.

Flashes of a life ran in front of my eyes. The halls of a place called Markarth, kneeling beneath a man like me. One who took what he wanted. A jarl. I wanted to kill him for kneeling to him.

The first time wielding true magick.

A battle, where I commanded men to slaughter other men.

A fight, where another foe fell to my hands.

All of Hadvar's accomplishments seemed to fall into place into my mind. I slowly started to remember who I was. Where I was. What I was doing.

A black dragon fell to my blade.

What was I doing?

A yellow glow caught my eye. Someone stood over Ariella. How dare they touch her!

My magick swept into the room, and the humans looked at me with terror in their eyes. My bonds left my body, and I moved.

Just as my claws were about to rake into the human nearest Ariella, I stopped myself. Mirabelle Ervine, I knew this useless sack of food.

I looked down, to the blonde headed woman below me. She was awake, and staring at me. Blood continued pouring down her midsection.

Magicka overwhelmed my own, and threw me backwards. I impacted the wall behind me with enough force to snap the wings on my back. More memories bombarded me. My mind fell back into place. All of it.

"It's Hadvar Ariella!" Mirabelle screamed at her archmage.

"What the fuck?!" I exclaimed as I looked down. The words came out jumbled, and too deep to be my voice.

I was naked.

My skin was grey, all over my body. My muscles were like corded steel winding up and down my form. I had to be at least ten foot tall. Where nails used to sit, inch long black talons jutted out of my skin. I could feel that they were strong enough to part flesh.

My wings weren't really wings at all. They were just the bone part of a wing, there was no thin membrane to catch air. At the tip of them, a much bigger talon sat. I tried to move them, but I couldn't due to the magick holding me up.

"That is Hadvar?!" Ariella asked, as she looked at me. She seemed to notice she was bleeding, and with a small thought, and a little yellow glow on the wound, it closed. A few more seconds, and she healed herself completely.

When she looked at me again, it was a look I never wanted to experience. It was a look of revulsion. She couldn't stand the sight of me.

"Kill me." I never even imagined I would utter those words. But something in her look tortured me. I felt weak, as soon as I said the words.

Ariella's face changed into sorrow.

"Oh, Hadvar…"

My brain provided me with the answer I wanted. I envisioned it like a switch. I reached up and turned it off, in my mind.

It was a much less painful process, to transform back into my human form. If that was what you called it.

My wings melded back into my skin first. Then my body began shortening, getting smaller. It is an impossible feeling to describe. My entire body itched during the entire process.

Then it was over.

When my feet hit the ground, Ariella's arms were around me.

* * *

A/N: Boom!

What the fuck just happened!?

Hadvar and Ariella should have died! Garan would have done unspeakable things to them, but he didn't.

A little twist that nobody, including me, would have expected. Obviously, I know where all of this is going. But can anyone else take a guess of why? And what I'm doing with it?

DIDN'T I PROMISE THAT THIS WOULDN'T HAPPEN TO A FEW OF THE REVIEWERS ONCE? I TAKE IT BACK!

Let's talk in the reviews.


	27. Act III: Chapter 4

Hello everyone,

Sorry I missed so much, but like I said in the last post, the holidays are approaching. In fact, my family wanted me to visit again, but I denied them to get this chapter out. Last chapter was particularly wild, after all.

What are the implications of being a vampire lord? Can it be reversed? Let's find out.

Follow me on instagram at wtmcdonaldauthor!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

How was I supposed to focus on what she was saying?

When her carotid artery pulsed so ...perfectly under her skin, her beautiful ivory skin. Just a single puncture, and I could feast.

The fact that was all I could think about, was the reason that silver manacles were attached to silver chains and bolted to the floor of my room. I had chained myself up, because all I could think about was how enticing blood seemed. It was like living in a nightmare.

"Hadvar?"

That part, I did hear. I met her blue eyes, and even though her face didn't change in the slightest I could tell she was put off by my bright orange eyes.

"I'm sorry, my love." When the words left my lips, they did not sound like before the change. My voice was smoother, almost perfect. The tone did not change, but there was no mistake in my vocal cords. The rasp was perfectly done. Now that I could feel what I was saying, it made sense that vampires were always so seductive.

"You sound different." Ariella said. This was the first time she had even mentioned the change.

"I know." I agreed. "I can feel it in my throat. It's subconscious, I'm not even trying." I told her, trying to be a little transparent about what was happening to me.

The fact that she hadn't killed me immediately, was a testament to her loyalty to me. Why was it that I could barely hold a conversation without wanting to murder who I was talking to? I loved this woman in front of me, and yet I stared at her neck.

"You look different too." Ariella said, as her eyebrows furrowed. Her eyes danced around my face, observing me. "Your skin is much smoother, with no lines. The color is uniform, your cheeks used to be a shade redder than the rest of your face."

"Am I handsome now?" I asked with a smile. I couldn't help but joke about the situation. Or maybe it was the influence of the vampire inside, wanting to seduce her to my side again. I couldn't discern what was me, and what wasn't.

What if all of it ...was me?

"You were always handsome. But now you are ...striking." Ariella answered, mirroring my smile.

"Do I still have beautiful auburn hair?" I asked, continuing this game we were playing.

Did being a vampire really change who I was? Well, of course it did. It made me desire blood, for sure. It made me want to dominate those around me, although that wasn't that much of a change from before. I had that dominating nature, but not to the extent that I had it now. It was like an overwhelming urge to be the alpha of every room.

But was that really a terrible thing? The fact that I was holding a conversation with Ariella proved that I could ignore the urges, even if it was just for a little bit. Surely I could learn to ignore the urges completely, right?

"Yes you do. It is even more beautiful than before. It shines a little more and there isn't a strand out of place." Ariella answered again. I could tell she wanted to talk to me, even if it was to feed my own ego.

Maybe she realized, just as I did, the need to establish my personality again. I needed to know who I was. And I needed her to help me.

"Good. At least I am beautiful now." I nodded with my joke.

Ariella laughed, and I felt it fill me with a little hope. I would get back to normal. It would just take time.

My eyes locked onto the shadow in the corner of the room, as I felt a presence appear. Pure anger, and protectiveness filled me. I felt my magicka demand to be let out, and I obeyed it.

"Calm down. It's just me." Vex's voice said as she stepped into the light, clad in her nightingale armor. She reached up and took off her hood and mask that completed the armor.

And then she produced a potion from somewhere behind her. I couldn't help but take note of the casual use of spacial magick. Was that a result of her status as a nightingale? Or was that a result of some of the contracts she had concocted? Or was it just a spell?

My thoughts were interrupted by the coppery smell that hit my nose. I locked onto the source immediately, and looked to the potion she held in her hand. From the smell, I knew it to be a blood potion.

I couldn't help but lick my lips, and the entirety of my being focused on the potion. An overwhelming hunger spiked in my gut. I couldn't help but move forward to her. The silver burned into my wrist and clanged together as I reached the maximum amount of movement they allowed me.

Vex didn't see the need to make me wait any longer, her magicka grabbed the bottle and levitated it over to me. I couldn't stop myself, I continued to struggle against my bonds, even though I knew it was heading towards me.

And then it was in my hands. The cork was already gone, so I lifted it up to my mouth, driven by instinct alone.

It felt like forever before gravity allowed the blood to fall into my mouth. I realized I must have been moving at very fast speeds for that to happen. As I was enhanced, I watched the blood fall in slow motion, into my mouth.

Pure euphoria, from the first drop of blood.

The world vibrated when the second drop hit my tongue.

There was no dish in the world that could compare to the absolute euphoric taste the blood potion had. There was no chef that could concoct something that would even achieve a tenth of the flavor.

It felt like an eternity when the bulk of the blood potion slid down my throat, but I savored every moment of it. I committed it to memory. I would never go back to being a human, this alone was worth the vampirism.

And then, all of the blood potion had been consumed.

My stomach was full, achingly full, and yet I held the vial upside down, hoping another drop would fall into my mouth. It never did.

I don't know how long I stood there, waiting for more, even though I was full. But it must have been a long time.

"I still remember my first time."

I did not recognize that voice, and I responded appropriately. My full attention went to the person that occupied the room with me.

Ariella was not there anymore, neither was Vex. Instead, a nordic woman stood in the entrance of my room.

Before today, I would have made the argument that Ariella was, perhaps, the most beautiful woman on the planet. This woman though. There wasn't a blemish on her alabaster skin. There wasn't a feature on her body that wasn't perfectly proportioned. Her nose, her lips, her cheekbones, the way her skin rested on all of those. Even her hair that stopped at her shoulders was perfect.

What gave away the woman's identity was the golden-orange eyes that mirrored my own. Well that and the vampire lord clothing she wore.

"Serana." I said, more as a revelation than as a greeting.

Her right eyebrow rose. "So you _are_ like Vex." Serana deduced.

"Yes." I answered truthfully. There was no reason to lie to the woman. In fact, if I played my cards right, I could learn about my condition from her.

Serana didn't say anything to that. Her eyes danced over my form, much in the same way that Ariella's had earlier. I could just tell that she was learning everything about me, just by looking at my form.

At that moment, I realized that I didn't have the silver shackles on my wrists anymore. Had I been so out of it, that someone had removed them from me when I was drinking the potion.

"It was me." Serana said as I looked to my wrists. "After your lover left us."

"Will I always react that way to blood?" I asked, a little fearful of the answer. I could easily see myself becoming addicted to that feeling. Already I yearned for more to gorge myself on.

Serana smiled at me. "No, that was a special occasion." She said.

That answer only caused more questions in my mind, but I held myself back from asking all of them.

"You're welcome by the way." Serana continued. "That was a gift I had never anticipated giving."

I frowned. "The Blood Potion?" I asked, a little confused. How was that a major gift?

"That was not a blood potion fool. That was my blood." Serana corrected. "The first feed is the most crucial. It sets the tone for your existence as a Vampire Lord. Not to mention the significant power boost I just gave you." Serana continued.

"Power boost?" The words slipped out. What was this woman talking about?

"Aren't you supposed to be intelligent? Vex spoke highly of you." Serana commented condescendingly.

I ignored her question. "Start over. What effects will your blood have on me that Garan's did not?" I asked, curious.

Serana sighed, as if she was tired of my existence already. "His blood was only the catalyst to turn you. Had you fed on a normal human, as most do their first time, then you would have spent the rest of your existence craving their blood." Serana said.

"And now I won't?" I asked. I needed her to be extremely specific about this.

"You will, just not to the extent that you would have. My blood will ...age you." Serana said, as if she was struggling to find the words.

"Is that what you meant by power boost? I will become as powerful as you?" I asked. The questions just kept popping up.

"In this form, yes. The other you'll have to do yourself." Serana answered. It seemed she had accepted that she would have to answer my questions.

"Can I be cured?" I asked. Surely Vex would know the answer to that question. In the games, it was possible to be cured, although I couldn't remember exactly how to do it.

Serana's eyes softened, and I knew the answer before she spoke the words.

"No."

In my mind, I had already accepted that answer. Although it still brought sorrow to me, having a definitive answer. I brushed it off, for a moment. I had made a decision to save Ariella, and I would live with it.

"Will Molag Bal have my soul, if I ever die?" I asked. It was better to know all of these answers.

"We all die, Hadvar. It's just a matter of time, and the person powerful enough to do it. As for the gods …well no one knows the answer to that. I am optimistic, on that front. I still yearn for Sovngarde." Serana said, as she looked to the ceiling.

I nodded, happy with the answer, even though it didn't do anything to reassure me. We would all have to face death one day, she was right about that.

"Side effects I don't know about? Advice?" I asked.

"Hmmm. Take a blood potion once a day, at least. I have given your lover the recipe. The sun will not kill you, but it will be a nuisance. That is why I brought you these." Serana said, pointing towards a stack of clothes. "They'll make it easier to ignore."

I wondered if I would even bother wearing that Vampire Lord Armor. To those in the know, it would be a declaration of what I was. But those in the know, would find out anyway. I put the decision in the back of my mind.

Already I was beginning to feel my mind clear from any instinctual influences. Serana was obviously right about the effect her blood would have on me. What would that mean for my martial skills?

Serana's magicka swept over me, and lust, unlike any I had ever felt gripped me. I managed not to attack her immediately, but I could feel my body start to react. My eyes were drawn to the shape of her body, and I couldn't help but imagine how well our bodies would fit together.

And then her magicka was gone, along with the urge to take her where she stood.

"You'll desire me." Serana said. She was not smiling, nor did she take any pleasure from what she said. It was just a fact to her. An unfortunate fact.

I felt disgusted with myself, as the lust left me. I loved Ariella, and still did. My mind hadn't thrown her away, nor had it equated Serana to her. But Serana was right. I would lust after her. Possibly forever.

"Will you stick around?" I asked. I wanted her to leave. I did not want the temptation in my life. The vampirism would be hard enough for Ariella and I to get over. I did not need to add Serana to my list of problems.

"No. I will leave you alone, don't worry." Serana said, giving me a bit of relief. She would be an invaluable asset, no doubt. But it wasn't worth it to me. I already had the tools to get my revenge, and stop Ulfric and Miraak from conquering Skyrim.

"This gift does not come free, Hadvar. You have a debt to me." Serana said, as she turned around and started moving to the door.

I didn't get the chance to ask her what she wanted, because she provided the answer immediately.

"You have to kill Garan."

* * *

I donned my normal attire, the gift I had gotten from Calcelmo upon my promotion in Markarth. It was light, and it didn't fit me as well as it once did. I didn't fill it out, as I had just four days ago.

I peeled it off of my body, and mustered up the courage to turn to the body length mirror in my room. My fears were confirmed.

I lost some mass, in my transition from human to vampire. I had been a big man, and I still was, I just didn't have that military mass. Instead I looked more like a smaller body builder, with a thinner waist and cut muscles. All my power had been condensed into a body most would kill for.

I knew that I was leagues stronger and faster than before, even if I looked like a sex machine. It was still hard for me to digest.

Everything Ariella had described was also true. Although she didn't mention how my facial structure had changed too. Small changes that could be summed up as 'sharper features'. I was a Vampire Lord, and I looked like it.

I had never been one to dislike the way I looked, and if I did I would work to change it. I would not run from what I had become, for I had done it out of pure reasons. It was still the right decision, even if that decision came with consequences.

I would own this body, and the side-effects it came with.

I felt myself moving to the pile of clothing that Serana left me. I didn't hesitate in starting to throw the new clothing over my body.

The long sleeve shirt was red, just as Harkon's had been, and hugged my torso tightly. The black pants were a little looser to allow more movement, but still fit me perfectly. Then I started picking up what I initially thought was hard leather.

It was dragon scale. Black dragon scale cuirass. Alduin.

_Did Ariella make this? _

I put the chest piece on, over the red long sleeved shirt. It wasn't as heavy as I expected, although that could have been because I was one strong mother fucker nowadays.

Silver lining.

There were even a pair of dragon scale boots and gauntlets. And the red waist long cape had the symbol of the legion on it. I walked back over to the mirror.

I looked like a fucking badass.

I hated to admit it, but the previous attire might have been holding me back. After all, Ariella and Ralof looked like badasses with their armor, why couldn't I? Now I knew that Ariella had this made.

I moved to my door, and wasted no time in opening it.

The sunlight was blinding, but it did not burn as I expected it to. There was a faint discomfort on my face, but since it was the only thing exposed to it, it was bearable.

Ariella was waiting for me. When she saw me, her face lit up and she practically raced to me. I saw her come towards me in slow motion. The pulse in her neck hardly even enticed me, as Serana said it would.

I felt myself smile, as I knew I could embrace her without the urge to drain her of her blood. Her precious blood.

When she latched on to me, I held her tight against my body. I memorized the feeling of it, as I now had a completely different perspective on what she felt like. I memorized the faint smell of ozone that always followed her. She smelt like a rolling storm.

When we finally let each other go, I couldn't help but pull her into a kiss.

* * *

I sent a smaller amount of magicka to my throat.

It was hard to control, admittedly. My reserves had grown massively in the past four days. I could rival some of the College's most experienced mages now. In fact, I thought I would probably have more magicka at my disposal than Calcelmo.

But, I knew that restoration would be harder for me to grasp now. Although I could feel how easy it would be to cast mass illusion type magicka. That was one major benefit to becoming a Vampire Lord. Illusion magick would be my go to.

"As you know, I have been sick the past few days! Sick of you sonsabitches!" I said, in my commander voice.

My army laughed beneath me.

"But now I am up to the task of leading you sorry sons of whores! Now that winter has passed, we can begin moving again. We make for Whiterun, where we meet up with Jarl Ralof and his forces." I yelled.

Over ten thousand men yelled back at me. "AAAHHHHH!"

"And then, we will end the Stormcloak rebellion, and bring peace throughout Skyrim!" I yelled.

Another response from my men. "Ahhhhhh!"

"Now pack your shit! We go to war!"

* * *

I reached into the part of my mind that I normally avoided, and flipped the switch.

The transformation was not nearly as painful as it was the first time. In fact, it felt more natural than anything. I couldn't help but stretch my wings out around me and get used to the feeling of two extra appendages once it was over.

A growl in front of me, caused me to look in it's direction.

A massive wolf stood on two legs looking at me. It was covered in blonde hair that made it look oddly majestic. The look in its eyes was too intelligent to be natural. I knew it wasn't natural.

I floated off of the ground naturally, and stared at the wolf. It returned the stare, and suddenly there was a tenseness that permeated the atmosphere around us.

And then we moved with a roar.

* * *

A/N: Boom!

Serana to the rescue, wow! Except that whole lust part, that is a terrible side-effect for a committed man. Especially not to be able to control it … terrible.

So what did we think? Obviously Serana's blood was a plot device, so your reviews saying so are predictable.

And Hadvar got a new look!

Let's talk about it in the reviews!


	28. Act III: Chapter 5

Hello everyone,

It seems like I'm going to have the next 10 days or so off. One of the guys that I work closely with tested positive for the infamous Covid-19. So I have to isolate now.

Save the 'be safe' and everything guys. I'm 25 and healthy as a horse, nothing to worry about. Speaking of horses. As some may know, I am from the southern United States. Although I am closer to a big city now, I grew up in the country, and that included doing things that are less than sanitary.

For example, I have swam in a horse trough before. Google it, it's disgusting. Let's just say that my immune system is a beast.

Anyway, I'll be writing everyday! Exciting for sure. Going to write my fanfic stories when they need to be updated, but I am for sure going to spend the majority of my time on my novel. I am fucking stoked to have this extra time. So let's get it!

Follow me on instagram at wtmcdonaldauthor!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

"How is it?"

The thought of lying to my friend crossed my mind. I knew the answer I should have given Ralof. But I decided that, with my new biology, I didn't want to begin lying too often. A part of me still feared what I could become as a Vampire Lord.

"I'm afraid I love it." I told Ralof. "I can see ...so much in the world. I can smell everything. My magickal ability is so much better in every aspect. Raw Power, control, finesse. Even mentally I seem ...sharper." I explained.

Those were only some of the benefits. There were others that some might consider to be morally objectable advantages. But that would depend if you were on my side or not.

Ralof nodded for a moment, and then hummed thoughtfully. "So now you understand why I never chased a cure, even if I have it readily available because of Kodlak." Ralof commented.

"If there is a cure for lycanthropy, then surely there is a cure for vampirism." I said, not completely convinced that Serana was correct in her hypothesis that it would be impossible.

"Possibly." Ralof said.

We stood on The Great Porch, overlooking the breathtaking landscape that was Skyrim. I wore my new outfit. Truly, I hardly took it off. With the self-cleaning enchantments on it, I didn't really need to.

"How often do you sleep, Ralof?" I asked. Would there be similarities there?

"Normally, I force an hour or two out of myself at night. But it's only for the reset it gives me ...the stability. I don't really need it." Ralof answered.

"So we are similar then. I make sure to fall asleep with Ariella, but I wake within an hour or two. You have no idea how much I am able to get done in the night. I am at my peak." I agreed with him.

"We are creatures of the night, now." Ralof said. "It's how I progressed up the companions hierarchy so quickly. Everyone else drowns themselves in alcohol, hoping it'll force them asleep. I tamed my wolf within a month, Ariella and I tracked down the pieces of Wuuthrad, and decimated the Silver hand. All while the rest of them slept. At least we thought we decimated them."

I had wondered how he did it, without the plot armor that is being the Dragonborn. Even back then, Ralof must have been barely above average, martially, compared to the senior members of the Companions. Now he could barely be matched on a battlefield, whether he wielded Wuuthrad, or his wolf form.

"Yes, well the Legions books have never been more organized. And I can only train so much."

Ralof just shrugged. He seemed to fill his nights with designing some of the innovations that caused my old world to explode. Apparently he was very close to a working printing press. Who knew what that could do for the people of this world?

What could I do when the rest of the world slept, to make it a better place?

"Sir!"

Ralof and I turned to the voice. I was a bit annoyed that my morning view was about to be interrupted with something undeniably important.

"Vilkas has returned."

* * *

I stood in a new room in Dragonsreach. At least, it was a renovated room. It must have Ralof's study, because it had loads of wooden file cabinets that I knew were packed to the brim with research, designs, etc.

But the most impressive thing was how he had his Projection, what we were beginning to call our communication crystals, set up.

Ariella had a single stand, with thirty different crystals on it, and she activated them as she needed.

Ralof had one stand, and a couple cases with crystals that went to various owners. He had to get up and walk over to which one he wanted, but aesthetically it worked better, in my mind.

Ralof, Ariella, and I stood in silence, waiting for everyone to join our 'call'. The ethereal form of Tullius stood as patient as we did. Of course, we had to wait for Rex, the esteemed Battlemage of the Emperor. A part of me wondered how he would fare in this war. I couldn't help but think that all of the individual talent in Tamriel was in Skyrim.

Eventually, Rex did flicker to life in front of us, with the same uncaring look on his face he always carried.

"I heard we have some news?" Rex asked as his eyes roamed over our forms.

When his eyes met mine, they stopped for a moment and he stared. I stared back, but it was not the same effect that it would have if we were face to face.

Ariella and I told as little people as possible about my new condition. That did not include Rex, or the higher ups in the Legion. In my mind, they just didn't need to know. Politically, I wasn't sure what it would do to me.

After this war is won, because I refuse to think about anything other than victory, it would become obvious as I stop aging, and everyone around me gets older. But we could cross that bridge when we got to it. For now, they didn't need to know.

Although by the look Rex was giving me, he already knew something had changed. His eyes finally left me, as Ralof started speaking.

"There have been an alarming amount of dragon sightings recently." Ralof began. "But no attacks. Mostly they have begun claiming mountain tops in the north, although the bravest has come as close as Ivarstead. They are calling it their protector, as it has destroyed the local troll and bear population."

Rex didn't react to this news, if anything he seemed to become annoyed. "If that is all, I must ask that you do not waste my ti.."

"They have begun moving, and are already almost out of The Pale." Ralof revealed.

Rex frowned, and looked to his left. I bit back the snort when I realized he was looking at a map of Skyrim to figure out where the Pale is in reference to where we waited. It was extremely close.

_Foreigner._ I just couldn't help my nordic heritage coming out of me. It was an instinctual knee-jerk reaction to Rex.

"That is extraordinarily close." Rex commented as he found The Pale on his map.

"A week away by carriage. Two weeks with a marching army. A couple of hours dragonback." I commented.

Rex nodded and it didn't take him very long to comment. "How many men?" He asked.

"Roughly twenty-thousand." Ralof answered, unimpressed with the number.

Rex hummed for a moment. "To our fifteen thousand, give our take?" Rex asked.

"Yes." I answered. "That is not the hard part of the battle." I told him.

The hard part would be at least six dragons, two dragonborn, and a vampire lord capable of blacking out the sun. And the fact that we had to fight all of them simultaneously.

"Of course. Well it just so happens that I have news also." Rex said casually. "That Tullius is already aware of."

I shot a glance toward Tullius, but the man let nothing show on his face of what this news actually is.

"There has been an alarming amount of ships leaving the Summerset Isles, heading north. Our spies tell us that High Rock has snubbed the Dominion long enough. It's an invasion force. I believe their true goal is to take High Rock, so that they can blood their warriors for Skyrim. Your civil war has caught the attention of Tamriel, and the Altmer know that we depend on you. They are not going to wait for us to gain an army, apparently." Rex said.

When he spoke these words, he did frown slightly, showing a rare glimpse of emotion to us. The news was not overly unexpected, but it was major no doubt.

It meant that the end of bloodshed was not insight, not anymore. I had to admit that I expected a brief pause in fighting after this next battle with the rebellion. Maybe a year or two to rebuild, and prepare ourselves. We would not be afforded that luxury, it seems.

"Tullius has orders to travel to Solitude, where he will scrounge for every ship that can sail and pull his troops out of Skyrim. He will go to High Rock to serve as the General for that front of the next Great War." Rex said.

Now that was unexpected AND major news.

"Tullius holds some of the most refreshed forces we have." I commented. "If this next battle doesn't go as planned, you will have condemned Skyrim, and the fate of the Empire."

"This is the only way we prevail." Rex replied confidently. "You are hereby promoted to General, Hadvar. Skyrim, and quite possibly Tamriel, rests on your shoulders."

I truly believe that if I was still an ordinary man, I would have felt the pressure of those words. But as a vampire lord it felt ...right. I desired not only the General position, but maybe more. Maybe I was always in the Legion for selfish reasons. Maybe I always wanted my name written in the history books.

All I know is that I smiled in response to the promotion. "Thank you." I told the Battlemage. I felt Ralof's paw slap my shoulder in congratulations, and I met Ariella's eyes. She was smiling a big smile at me.

"It is well deserved." General Tullius commented. "I place my trust in you, Hadvar. You know how important the Empire is to Tamriel, that is why you fight. Remember Hadvar, and you will win." He told me with a slight grin on his face.

I nodded to my pseudo-mentor. "Thank you General." I commented before remembering something crucial.

"Now that the Aldmeri is invading again. I say fuck the White-Gold Concordat." I began with a smile. My next sentence made Ralof howl towards the roof of his office.

"May Talos be with us all."

* * *

My eyes snapped open.

I could feel him, somewhere in the castle. It was like a sonar, just pulsing at me. I could trace it. I calmly crawled out of bed, making sure that I didn't disturb my partner. I quickly donned my armor, made from Alduin's scales. I belted my sword, made from Alduin's bones. And I slipped out of the room.

The shadows called to me, so I stuck to them as I maneuvered through the castle that was Dragonsreach. I used illusion magick to slip right beside guards, barely bothering to hide myself. They never took notice of me.

I felt my feet, and my mind take me to the Great Porch. Of course Garan made it this far into the castle. He represented the Assassin's Guild questline, along with the Vampire Lord questline. Why should any amount of guards give him problems?

When I walked on to the Great Porch, the moonlight shone on him. I passed by two guards unconscious on the ground and I barely gave them any thought.

"Good evening." Garan commented as I approached. "I see you have taken to your transformation well. Did you visit the Soul Cairn? Or did Vex call in a favor from Serana?"

I didn't answer him, instead I couldn't help but look at the beautiful pearl-white bow on his back. A dagger, undoubtedly the Blade of Woe, rested on his lower back in a unique sheath. And an Akavir sword that belonged to Harkon at one time rested on his waist. The unique Ebony Mail rested on his body. He was ready for war.

Garan took a deep smell of the air. "Serana…" He whispered as he turned to me. His eyes widened slightly as he looked over my shoulder. I could already feel who approached behind me.

"You should not have come here. Now I have your smell." Ralof said. His voice was deep, and reminiscent of a wolf.

"It matters not." Garan brushed it off. "Soon we will settle our differences, even if they are few."

"Why have you come?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"I realized my mistake in letting you live." Garan said. "I did not foresee your relationship with Vex. I did not foresee Serana intervening. I did not foresee the Aldmeri invading. I thought I would have time to play with my food."

I grinned then. Since Serana had visited me, I had felt as if I only had benefits since becoming a vampire lord. It just increased my chances against my foes, and I didn't even have to expend magicka to reach their level. Truly it was a gift.

"I have condemned the rebellion." Garan commented.

"You do not care for the rebellion." I denied. "You want power, as all of our kind do. It is our tie to Molag. Domination is in our being." I told him.

"You are wrong." Garan rebutted. "I have spent centuries undermining the Empire and their no-tolerance policy on what they label undead. They view us as creatures, and yet they worship those with the soul of a dragon. Domination is in all of our blood. My agreement with Miraak would have allowed me the opportunity to reclaim Morrowind. I could have rebuilt it to its former glory." Garan said.

"So you know that your cause is hopeless?" I asked. It didn't matter to me, either way he had to die.

"It is not hopeless. All my work has not been for nothing. It just will not be easy as it should be." Garan answered.

I had to disagree with him. The only thing they had going for them was their dragons, and even then it was a slim advantage. I had killed two already, and I can kill more.

"You didn't expect more like us, did you?" It was Ralof that asked the question. We all knew what he was talking about. Transmigrators. People not of this world.

"No." Garan answered. "I was alone for so long."

"I will do you the honor of a battlefield death." I said. Some part of me was happy that he turned me. The alternative was a very gruesome death. And there was no telling what he would have done to Ariella.

"You are not capable of such a thing." Garan denied, completely confident.

"We will see." I retorted.

"I suppose we will."

As soon as Garan said the words, his form blurred into a swarm of bats and he flew off of the Great Porch.

* * *

It was odd to me, that we picked and chose what nordic traditions we implemented.

For example, sometimes a meeting between the leaders of two armies was required. Although we had yet to do such a thing in this war.

But here I stood, in the middle of a field on the outskirts of Whiterun. My army stood in formation some two hundred yards behind me. The rebellion stood in some attempt of a formation about two hundred yards in front of me.

Ariella, Vex, and Ralof stood behind me, looking up at the sky, where dragons roamed above us. Vex was correct in her initial assessment of six dragons, all of varying colors and sizes. Although every single one would cause a problem.

Three of them had riders. Ulfric, Miraak, and Garan.

And those three were diving towards the ground. A show of strength, no doubt. I refused to flinch when the beats of their wings caught on the air and sent wind in our directions. I didn't react when their feet hit the ground with a thump.

When Ulfric dismounted, his outfit had changed, as had his demeanor. Before, he was a confident man strutting around in fine furs. Now he was an absolute tank outfitted in dragonplate armor. Where he got the dragonbone, I wouldn't know. But he got enough to become the embodiment of unrelenting force. He even had the dragonplate shield attached to his left arm. He was lucky that dragonbone was ridiculously light. I knew that, from the sword on my waist.

That wasn't even the most impressive part of his armor. On his head, sat the Jagged Crown. The ancestral nordic symbol of power. The same crown that rested on Ysgramor's head, when he led our ancestors to this land.

I had to admit that Ulfric looked like a badass.

Miraak looked the exact same, and even had on his helmet.

Garan looked like he did the last time I saw him, except Auriel's bow was in his left hand, and not on his back. His face was set to a frown, as if he had accepted it was time to fight, or die.

All in all, they presented a mean opponent. And they knew how to make an entrance.

They moved forward, as one, towards us. They stopped about ten feet away from me. I noticed Miraak and Ulfric's eyes drop to the black dragonscale cuirass on my form. No doubt, they knew the source.

"This is your last chance to surrender." Ulfric said, in his deep voice. His thu'um had improved, and I hadn't even heard it yet.

No doubt he had mastered the powers that Alduin gifted him upon his death. Or rather, that I had gifted him.

"I was about to say the same thing." I joked.

Ulfric snarled towards me. "I wear the crown. The people accept me as their King."

I shook my head. "An outdated symbol of power. I wield the King's Blade. You are a traitor to your people. You have brought them only death and destruction." I retorted. "And your Aldmeri allies will guarantee their enslavement. Put down your weapons, take off that Talos forsaken crown, and you can spend the rest of your days in jail, as opposed to death."

I knew they were surprised by my accusation of his Aldmeri allies. But what they were really surprised by, was the use of Talos by a representative of the Empire.

"The White-Gold Concordat has been broken. When I am done with you idiots, I will beat the elves back to their islands, as Tiber Septim did. I will drag this world into peace, kicking and screaming if I have to."

I didn't know where all that came from, but it was how I felt and it was truthful. Although, it was never a good idea to compare yourself to the man that became a god. It was in bad taste, as a nord. You could always strive to be like him, but never compare.

"You will die here today then." Ulfric said, a little more solemnly than he usually did. He turned around, to mount his dragon again. Apparently he was done with the conversation.

"A duel." I suggested.

"Between the two of us. The opposing side surrenders." I offered as was normal tradition. It was almost always accepted. I knew it wouldn't be today.

"I am not so dumb as to forfeit my biggest advantage, Hadvar." Ulfric said without looking back. "You have my respect as a warrior. I will join you in Shor's hall one day, where we may feast and fight together."

I didn't even bother to tell him it would be the opposite. But I did have to have the last word then.

"It is war, then."

I turned around, and began walking to the head of my army. I observed them as I approached. There were more than thirty ballista on the field, having been built long before Ulfric even reached the Pale. There was a single person, at every ballista. Those were mages. It had been a brilliant idea by Ariella to have them man the ballista.

They could load the ballista with telepathy easier and faster than men. That meant a much higher efficiency. Yes, it put them at risk, but they could also cast shields to protect them if they became targets.

Not to mention how protective Ariella was of every single mage under her care. They would be fine, no doubt.

My companions and I did not say a word as we walked back. We all knew the pressure. We all knew what was at stake. And all of us were completely prepared to go the distance.

I would not even be at the head of the army, commanding troops. That would be Enden's job. No it was time for me to embrace my dragon killing instincts. I would hunt dragons and dragonborn the entire battle.

It was time to reveal exactly how I would accomplish such a thing. I summoned my considerable magicka, and formed it into a very specific spell. Something that no mage would ever stumble across by accident. This was only taught.

When I cast the spell, I felt my reserves drain significantly as I summoned a mount from another world.

When a dragon dies, it disappears into a black flame that burns away it's flesh. The spell was doing the exact opposite. I was summoning a dragon, not killing one.

When the flesh coalesced into a single being, it roared its name defiantly to the heavens, drawing attention from everyone in attendance. Especially the other dragons.

"Dur-Neh-Viir!"

* * *

A/N: Boom!

Hadvar got a gift from Vex, it seems. Maybe one day, I need to write that scene of Hadvar earning Durnehviir's respect and the ability to summon him. But I wanted it to be a surprise to everyone.

The battle approaches!

But it is not the end! Or is it?

Tell me what you think in the reviews!


	29. Act III: Chapter 6

Hello everyone,

Happy belated Thanksgiving! Now that it has passed, I suppose it's time to put up Christmas decorations. Truthfully, I have already completed that task. A fresh tree has been cut by my own hand and stood up in my living room. The lights have been put on the yard and the house. And I've already had a cup of hot chocolate while watching How The Grinch Stole Christmas with the kids. Life is good.

I hope everyone is faring as well as I am, and if you aren't, be patient and work hard. You'll get there!

Anyway, on to the chapter!

Follow me on instagram at wtmcdonaldauthor!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

The dragons in the sky answered Durnehviir's call with their own and the world exploded into noise.

"A true battle, as requested." I told my newest companion. Hopefully a companion that would stick by my side for a long time. Not only was he an amazing combatant, but he had a vast knowledge of magick.

Durnehviir didn't bother answering, instead he lowered his head so that I could climb on top of him and we could take to the air. I did as he requested and tethered myself to his undead frame with magick.

As I did, my hand dipped into a pouch on my hip, and I pulled out a blood potion. I downed it quickly and put it back in my pouch. Immediately I felt my reserves rise again, along with my energy levels.

And then we were rising into the sky. As far as I was concerned the battle had started, and it was time to hunt.

As we got high in the sky, I took a brief moment to look around to appreciate the beauty of Skyrim from dragonsback. It was astounding. Although, oddly enough, I still preferred the Great Porch's view.

Our first challenger made itself known quickly. A golden dragon, without a rider, launched a ball of fire towards us, before turning its body towards us in the air. Had I not been enhanced, and capable of extremely fast thought, I would have found that there wasn't a lot of time to think in mid-air combat.

When the fireball reached us, I cast a simple shield to block the blow and send it away from us.

And then the golden dragon was on top of us about to collide with my mount in mid-air. Durnehviir welcomed the challenge and met the dragon full speed.

I knew the impact would be grand, so I jumped while holding on to Durnehviir with my magick so that I wouldn't get too far from their battle.

My plan worked perfectly.

When their bodies met in the air, they stopped moving, but I kept my momentum. I used my magick like a rope, and swung towards the back of the golden dragon. I thought I looked like a proper hero when I drove my sword between its wings. Truthfully, it didn't matter.

Durnehviir quickly proved himself superior to the golden dragon, and his jaws latched on to the neck of the golden dragon. With a mighty tear, he ripped the throat out. I realized that my stab would do nothing to the dragon with a wound on its neck like that. It would be dead, and I didn't even have to do anything.

In less than two seconds since the golden dragon had dared to meet Durnehviir in the air, it had been defeated swiftly. And Durnehviir hardly had a scratch on him.

I made sure to swing myself around to Durnehviir's back. As soon as I was clear, my mount through his opponent to the ground. The golden dragon struggled to beat its wings for a moment, but it was futile. Its wound was leaking massive amounts of blood and it impacted the ground beneath us.

Right where the two armies were about to meet. I couldn't see it, but I smiled knowing the psychological impact it would have on the opposition.

At the sight of the blood, I was given an idea. What would happen if a vampire lord drank dragon's blood?

My smile was wiped away quickly, when an arrow passed through the space my head used to occupy. I could see the pristine designs on the arrow, and immediately I knew who had shot it. I looked to the owner of the arrow to see Garan standing on the back of his dragon, loading another arrow into Auriel's Bow.

The man had skill, of that there was no doubt. To fire from the back of a moving dragon, and have such precision was ...legendary. It was a shame we were on opposite sides of the war. It was a shame he ever considered touching Ariella.

I looked into Garan's eyes and brought my sword to my lips. I couldn't help but taste the blood on the blade.

Human's blood is warm, but not too warm. Serana's blood was actually cold, being a vampire.

But a dragon's blood was like liquid fire. Although it's hard to describe it as that because it didn't harm me in the slightest. It was almost too much flavor on my tongue. When I swallowed it, I couldn't concentrate on the burn of my throat. All I knew was that the world exploded.

All of my enhanced senses went a notch higher, including my perception. It was a massive burst of energy, compared to the blood potion.

And my magicka… absolutely demanded to be used. So I used it. A massive shard of ice formed in front of my hand, as quickly as I had ever formed it. I launched it towards Garan.

With my enhanced eyesight, I saw his eyes widen at the shard of ice. The dragon he rode on sent a fireball towards the ice shard, hoping to melt it down before it could reach them, but it was to no avail.

The shard would have pierced through the dragon's hide had it not been for its rider. Garan slapped it with his own magicka, sending it off course. He was smart that he hadn't just tried to stop it, it would have cost him much more magicka.

I grinned, and my mount dove towards another target.

It took me a moment to realize why he did. Miraak was diving towards a few ballista in the back lines of my army. Apparently, he realized our advantage there and wanted to change that.

"Fus Roh Dah!"

I raised a shield around us instinctively, and it was a good thing I did. Ulfric saw us moving to intercept Miraak, and wasn't going to allow it.

I turned to see him on the back of a black and purple scaled dragon. It had thick curved horns on its head. A legendary dragon, although I didn't recognize it from the games. And they were flying parallel to us.

"We're too outnumbered." I realized.

The flash of lightning filled the air, and I reminded myself to allow Ariella to protect her magicians. I was a dragon hunter for this battle. All I needed to do was thin the dragons numbers and not allow them to dominate the battle.

"Let us change that, mortal." Durnehviir rumbled to me, as he ignored Ulfric and turned around in the sky before diving almost straight down.

Ulfric did not pursue us, but him and his dragon did circle around and follow us. He probably didn't want to fall into some trap that we were laying for him. That would be false, as I had no idea what Durnehviir was up to.

Durnehviir leveled us out about thirty feet about the fighting below us. That was when I realized his target was the pile of dragon bones in the middle of my army.

In the middle of my battles in the sky, my army had already gained the middle ground, and was advancing. They had taken about fifty feet so far. An accomplishment, in that short amount of time.

Durnehviir pulled up when we reached the bones of the dragon he killed. Its soul had already been absorbed by one of the dragonborn in the sky, although I didn't see who it was.

"Diil Tiid Vo!"

Some of the shout sounded familiar to me. I wondered if I could pry what the words meant from Durnehviir later.

All I knew was that it was not the shout that Alduin used to resurrect dragons. Because this dragon did not come back to life. All that happened was that the bones came together as they were supposed to, and patches of flesh covered those bones. Even the membrane of the wings were patchy.

It was an undead dragon. I was both horrified at the sight, and interested.

My men around the beast backed up slowly from it. I knew there would have to be explanations in the future for what my men were seeing. I would need to make a speech about it.

Luckily, the undead dragon did not attack my men. It flapped its wings, and somehow began flying. I didn't know how it was possible with the holes in its wings, but it managed to fly just as naturally as Durnehviir was below me.

With his shout completed Durnehviir took off, with the undead dragon right on his tail. I wondered if he was having to control the dragon all the time or if it was autonomous. I didn't have time to ask.

We were headed towards one of the dragons without a rider on it, as it was the closest to us now.

I kept my head on a swivel, waiting for Ulfric, Miraak, or Garan to pop up and attack us in the air.

It was Ulfric that I found again.

I blocked the ball of fire his mount threw towards us as they passed perpendicular to us. They didn't have enough time to turn around and help their comrade.

The dragon we impacted with, never saw us coming. Durnehviir claimed his second kill just as quickly as his first. He knew where it was most effective to strike, and he struck faster and harder than any other dragon I had seen.

We were so close to the ground on this kill, that Durnehviir used the dead dragon in his claws as a cushion when we hit the ground. He stood on top of the dragon as Ulfric made another pass at us.

He met Ulfric's fireball with a frost shout of his own. The two shouts collided in mid-air and fizzled out. Although I could tell that Ulfric's shout was a tad bit stronger than Durnehviir's was.

Ulfric did not command his mount to dive farther and meet Durnehviir with their bodies however. It seemed like Ulfric had come to the conclusion that Durnehviir was possibly the strongest dragon on the battlefield. And it was showing.

I heard a massive crash off towards where the ballista were and looked in their direction. The third riderless dragon laid on the ground with more than ten ballista bolts sticking out of its scales. There were more holes than that in its wings.

Durnehviir roared a triumphant roar to the sky, as he stood on top of his second kill. He was boasting, there was no other way to describe it.

And he paid for it.

I would never have expected a single arrow to be capable of piercing a dragon's hide. No matter what it was made out of.

Never would I have expected it to go straight through dragonscale, pierce the skull, and exit the bottom of the jaw. It was some of the strongest and most dense dragonbone on the body. But it did, and Durnehviir fell to the ground like a puppet with his strings cut.

"Fuck!" I exclaimed on top of his back as he too hit the ground. It wasn't because I thought he was dead. Durnehviir couldn't truly die, he would just reform in the Soul Cairn.

One might wonder why I wouldn't just summon him again, if I had the magicka. Well that would be because Durnehviir could reform in two minutes, or he could reform in a week according to him. He hadn't been defeated enough times to get a definite answer on how long it took him. All he knew was that it was based on the amount of injuries he sustained. I had no idea how long reforming a brain would take.

We were on our own for the fight.

Three dragons were killed, but three still roamed the skies. Arguably the most deadly of the three.

I looked to see if the undead dragon was still flying around above us. It wasn't. The magick holding it together disappeared with Durnehviir.

Durnehviir turned to dust beneath my feet. There was no 'burning' like a normal dragon. He just turned to dust and faded away. I landed on the dead body of the second dragon and quickly jumped down off of it. It was dying like a true dragon and turning into a rainbow of lights. The lights flew into Ulfric, who flew with a smug look in the skies.

I turned to find Garan, the person I knew shot the arrow that killed Durnehviir. He was perched on top of his dragon, about four hundred yards away. The dragon stood on a jagged piece of rock in the battlefield that rose about twenty feet into the air.

He was smiling in my direction, pleased with himself.

I wasn't allowed the time to frown at him. Garan's head snapped to the air above him. I could feel the massive amount of magick use from where I stood.

A black hole in the sky appeared right above him, and an absolute behemoth fell out of the hole.

Garan ducked, as a blade passed where his head should have been, and then he jumped off of the dragon and away from what was about to happen.

Vex had arrived, and she brought a Daedric Titan with her. Because that was all that the monster that was ravaging Garan's dragon could be. Dragons did not do well on the ground, that was why they had wings and shouts to do damage from afar.

Apparently Daedric Titans were made for the ground. In fact, the Titan used its wings as nothing more than impaling mechanisms. Let's just say that what it did to the dragon was ...brutal. It ripped it apart.

Two roars sounded out from the only two dragons left on the field, and I looked to see Ulfric and Miraak heading towards Vex.

"Shit." I muttered to myself.

Four hundred yards was a long way, but as a vampire lord, I was fast. The only problem was that it was deep into Stormcloak territory. So I started running.

Vex was powerful, as was the Titan, but two dragons, two dragonborn, and parts of the Stormcloak army were turning towards her. That would be a lot to handle for anyone. Not to mention I didn't know where Garan had disappeared to.

The first one hundred yards went by quickly. But by the time I hit the Stormcloak army at two hundred yards, Ulfiric and Miraak were already there.

I couldn't waste time killing every man along the way, so I jumped over the front lines and brought my magick to bear, casting the most intense Fear I could. The Stormcloak soldiers, nord men just like me, looked at me in the sky with terror in their eyes.

As I was in the sky, I saw my army part and a single person plunge into the Stormcloak soldiers. It was Ralof dressed in his ebony wolf armor, although it was dripping in blood. He had been on the ground the entire time, leading the army and decimating the Stormcloak. But apparently he had seen exactly what I had, and that was an opportunity to get Ulfric and Miraak on the ground so that we could fight them.

I landed, and drew my sword in the same motion. The Stormcloak army parted for me as I took off towards where the Daedric Titan squared off against two dragons. Ralof was right behind me.

A few men were brave enough to step in our path, but they fell to my blade quickly. During the run I managed to keep up with the fight ahead.

Miraak was the only one on the back of his dragon. Ulfric was somewhere on the ground that I could not see, as it was higher in the air than my current position. I only imagined that he was facing off against Vex.

The two dragons were in the sky, hovering above the Daedric Titan, just out of reach from it, bathing it in fire. I was sure that the titan was going to fall, without taking down either of the dragons.

As Ralof and I reached the cliff of the raised piece of land, the ground shook. I saw the Titan rise into the air slightly, close to Ulfric's dragon, and its wing lashed out to pierce the dragon in the side.

I jumped, and climbed the cliff face quickly, trying to reach the top. When I looked for a foothold, I noticed that Ralof hadn't followed me up the cliff face. I trusted him to reach the fighting in time, so I kept climbing.

When I climbed up, it was not a good sight.

Vex had an arrow in her left shoulder, and was currently dancing between the blades of Ulfric and Garan. I briefly wondered why she hadn't just fled the fight.

The Daedric titan was a broken shell of what had fallen out of Oblivion. It's left wing and arm was missing, spewing purple blood on the ground beneath it. Although at its feet laid Ulfric's dead dragon.

I wasted no time in drawing my blade again, and pushing forward.

I felt Miraak send his magicka to his throat to enhance his shout. "Fus Roh Dah!" Miraak shouted.

The Titan buckled under the unrelenting force, and hit the ground. A loud 'snap' rang out, signifying something major had just broken.

I couldn't focus on that however, because my foot was outstretched, and impacting the shield of Ulfric just as I parried a slash from Garan.

I managed to shove Ulfric back a couple of feet to buy myself some time. The next few moves were made so fast that one had to be enhanced to survive it.

Garan's blade sliced through the air multiple times in a row. Parry, dodge, dodge, attack. He was very skilled, exploiting every turn of my body, and every out of position limb. It was a miracle that I managed to survive the onslaught of strikes.

I moved forward into his guard, once he gave me the chance, confident that I had the advantage there. Instead, the Blade of Woe appeared in his left hand, and I was forced to lock arms with him, or be skewered.

There was a brief pause as we looked into each other's eyes. It was a promise to each other, one of us would die today.

I kicked his leg out from underneath him, and gained distance.

Only to duck a swipe from Ulfric. Ulfric's shield lashed out to hit me, but with my momentum I was able to roll my back along the shield and continue to gain distance.

When I came out of the roll, Garan's sword was a foot from my chest and closing the distance. I would have died had it not been for Vex's intervention. Her nightingale blade parried Garan's, and she lowered her shoulder before driving it in Garan's chest, sending him away.

I was not allowed any time to breathe. But this time it was from a green tentacle. I turned to the side slightly, and allowed it to sink into the ground beneath me.

I managed to see Ralof join the battle, and Wuuthrad lodged itself inside Ulfric's shield.

And then Miraak and I were in front of each other trading blows. It was just like the Challenge, all over again. Except I was much faster than I was then, and much more skilled.

His Dragon Aspect Shout enhanced his body and pushed mine to its limits. His skill with a blade was hard to match, but I did it all the same. I don't know how much time we spent trying to kill each other, but it was no less than a few minutes. Even with my perception enhanced, it felt like hours that the three of us danced amongst each other with blades.

Almost no magic or shouts were used, there was simply no time.

And then Vex made a simple mistake, that allowed Garan space. I've never seen anyone draw the bow on their back as fast or efficiently as he did. His other hand grabbed the lone arrow that still sat in his quiver.

Something in me understood what he was doing. I understood the magick he sent into Auriel's Bow. I knew that he would try to send the arrow into the sun. I knew that he couldn't be allowed to do so, or he would kill us all.

So when Miraak sliced at my side, I allowed it.

Four inches of blade slashed underneath my right ribs tearing through organs. I barely felt it because I was moving forward.

I swung in front of Auriel's Bow, just as Garan released the arrow. I didn't know what happened in the next second, it was too fast. I thought I missed the arrow, because I didn't feel any resistance.

There was a pause, as everyone looked to the sky, even Miraak and Ulfric. I didn't allow the opportunity to slip by me, and my hand dipped into my pouch. I uncorked the blood potion and drank it quickly.

My side burned slightly as my body put itself back together. Within a couple of seconds, the wound had completely sealed itself shut.

The sound of wood clattering on the ground was what alerted everyone. It was the back half of an arrow. I had cut the arrow, there was no way it would reach the sun now.

"Aahhh!" Garan roared in response, showing true anger for the first time.

I took that as my que to start fighting again. Except this time, I was not on the defensive. Ever since I had saved Vex, they hadn't allowed me time to think.

Now they did.

I moved to Miraak and parried a strike, just as I had during the Challenge. I threw a punch towards his throat, just like I had during the Challenge. I allowed his left hand to throw my left hand off course, except I kept my momentum.

I stepped passed him, while my arm went around his throat. I twisted around his frame to where I had him in a standing rear naked choke.

With my strength, there was nothing he could do as I lifted him up by his head, bearing his throat to the world.

He did put up a fight, however and stabbed his sword behind him, where my head was. My other arm caught his wrist and twisted it, further putting him in an awkward position.

I bit.

His carotid separated under my fangs, and I began to drink.

"Ahhhh!" Miraak wailed, as only a terrified human can. He squirmed in my arms as I drained him from his carotid.

"No!" Ulfric cried as he moved to cast a shout towards where I held Miraak.

Wuuthrad was still lodged deep into Ulfric's shield, and I realized that Ralof had been fighting hand to hand with Ulfric the entire fight.

Ralof's hand grasped the handle of Wuuthrad, and pulled Ulfric off balance, interrupting his shout and torquing Uflric's arm in a direction it was not meant to go.

'Snap'

Ulfric's arm broke under Ralof's strength. Ralof moved forward as Ulfric stumbled off balance and grabbed him by the throat.

Ralof lifted him up with one hand and ripped the crown off of his head with the other. He held him there and watched him squirm as Ulfric tried to breathe through his closed windpipe.

By this time, Miraak was struggling less and less in my arms, as he steadily lost blood. I was beginning to feel more and more full, although his blood didn't come close to comparing to Serana or even a dragon's blood. His body was still human, even if his soul was a dragon.

"Watch out!" I heard Vex yell behind me.

I recognized the wing of a Vampire Lord about to stab me in the face, and would have caught me off guard had the last player in our game not interfered. The talon on the wing stopped in mid-air, caught by the familiar magick of Ariella. Her magicka engulfed the area, more than I had ever felt her do before.

I could feel her anger at the vampire lord in front of me. She grabbed him with pure magick, and lifted him into the air in front of us, where she also floated.

She said nothing, but looked straight into Garan's eyes. With a jerking motion with one hand, Garan's right wing separated from his body.

"Aaahhh!" Garan roared in his vampire lord form. I couldn't see a hint of pain in the ugly face so I wasn't sure if he actually felt his wing get ripped off.

Ariella jerked her hand again, and another limb separated from his body. This time the vampire lord didn't make a sound. I knew how hard it was to actually feel pain in that form. It confirmed that he wasn't feeling anything.

With one last jerking motion, Garan's head left his body.

Ulfric swung his sword at Ralof, in an attempt to stab the man before he died from lack of asphyxiation. Ralof just turned, and used the momentum to slam Ulfric to the ground by his throat.

Miraak's blood stopped pulsing in my mouth, at the same time as Ulfric's neck snapped under the pressure of Ralof's slam.

In a single moment, the first and last dragonborn died.

* * *

A/N: Boom!

It went from a fairly even battle, to ending real quick!

Miraak, Ulfric, and Garan are all dead. Did you guys expect that? Did you think I would drag it out with somebody escaping? I thought the story might lead us that direction for sure, but it didn't.

What did we think? Let's talk about it in the reviews!

P.S. The story isn't completely over yet, for those who might wonder.


	30. Act III: Chapter 7

Hello everyone,

How unfortunate is it that I had something to do on the last two Saturdays, leaving me unable to write? And right after such an important battle too. I didn't want to drag the story out, you know? It would have been easy for one of the main villains to get away, and force Hadvar to chase them, leading to an epic battle. But the story would have felt drawn out to be honest.

Anyway, let's get into it.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

The clean-up of such a massive battle was intense. It took us four days to gather and burn all the bodies.

Sovngarde greeted too many nords that day. I should have been happy at those who left for the afterlife, but all I saw was a battlefield of dead bodies. Bodies that could have been used to bring peace throughout the empire. Bodies that could have helped build a new future.

So many dead.

"Rex has called for us."

I stood on the Great Porch of Whiterun, looking down. I came to this place to think, often. Currently I was thinking about what happened now that the Rebellion was over. The Jarls had been officially replaced in the cities that rebelled. Although, I was sure that there would need to be some direct intervention to get some to vacate their seat.

I felt Ariella hug me from behind. "What are you thinking about?" She asked.

I tried to turn around, but her hug was too tight. I couldn't help but chuckle when I finally got her to where she was hugging my chest and not my back.

"What happens next." I answered her question truthfully.

"Hmmm." Ariella moaned into my chest. "First, we talk to Rex. Then we relax."

I smiled at her. "That sounds perfect."

* * *

"I am not accustomed to waiting." Rex said as we walked into the room.

We were in Ralof's office again. Ralof sat in his chair, lazily. He had seemed more at peace since the battle. So had I. All the blood, sweat, and tears we poured into the rebellion wasn't for nothing. All the sacrifice was worth it in the end.

"Apologies." I said, trying to placate the emperor's battlemage. I was truly tired of taking orders from a man that had yet to fight by my side. I knew he couldn't even stand next to the 'Champions of Skyrim'. Ralof, Ariella, Vex, and I were practically royalty now.

Songs were already being sung about our victories, and bravery.

Rex could tell that I was obviously not sorry, and his face showed his anger.

"You think you can relax, is that it?" Rex asked. "You believe that your work is done?" He asked, anger seeping into his voice.

"I believe we have earned a few moments to breathe, yes." I answered, as if he was a child. He was behaving like it, and I was tired of it. I had begun putting a lot of thought into it, truth be told.

It was obvious to me that the empire was completely reliant on Skyrim and it's armies. Why? Why should my people continue to die for the 'empire'? Empire's never lasted in my old life, and they would never last in this one. I would be fighting a losing battle.

Ralof had begun to innovate the world, and Ariella was well on her way to educating it. What would my legacy be? How could I change this world, more than I already had?

Some might say that winning a war that stopped the dragon race from taking over Tamriel would be enough. Some might argue that I could die today, and I would go down as one of Skyrim's greatest heroes. They would be correct.

But I was not dead, and I had a lot more to offer this world than war.

"You are a child." Rex spat towards me.

I took a deep breath, and looked towards the ceiling for a moment before steeling myself and looking towards the Battlemage.

"The only reason you are allowed to say such things is because you are a thousand miles away. You are not fit to stand in the same room as us. And if you were in the same room, you would piss your pants before you spoke those same words. Now why is it that you called us, other than to insult us?" I asked. I was tired of his treatment of not only me, but of Ariella and Ralof too.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ralof smile at my words.

"Tullius would roll over in his grave if he heard you talk to me that way! It is too bad that he has yet to be buried! He still hangs from the walls of Solitude." Rex said condescendingly.

I frowned at the ethereal form of the man. "Tullius is dead?" I asked.

I felt a weight drop on my shoulders. It was the same weight that I rid myself when Miraak's blood stopped pulsing on my tongue. The weight of war was on my shoulders again, I could feel it. With the weight, came anger that I was not allowed to enjoy my victories.

"Our spies were deceived. The Aldmeri never intended to invade High Rock. Last night, they sacked Solitude. Tullius' entire legion is gone, as are the ships Ulfric had begun to build. You sit there in your ivory tower as your people are pillaged and raped! You are the ones not fit to stand in the same room as me!"

"Enough!" I hissed. "Your information was unreliable. You are unreliable! If what you say is true, it is your fault my people suffer! You will hear from us when Solitude is retaken!" I roared the last parts of my little speech.

My magic swept over the crystal, breaking the connection with Rex's. I knew he would be angry at the gesture. I couldn't give a fuck.

"Solitude is gone…" Ariella whispered. "We stop one war, only to step into another." She said as her face hardened. Very rarely had I seen her truly angry. She was approaching that.

I made a decision right then and there. "Walk with me." I said to the two of them as I turned to leave Ralof's office. Ralof leapt out of his chair and began to follow.

"You have a plan?" He asked as we began moving through his palace.

"Yes. I'm going to end this war before it begins." I told him as I walked out the palace's door and into the Great Porch.

"How do you plan on doing that?" Ariella asked.

Both of them felt me twist my magicka for my next spell. Dust began to swirl around us, and slowly form into a familiar sight. Durnehviir had reformed in the Soul Cairn, and he was still my partner.

"Yes, but I suspect I will be gone for a while. Ralof, march for Solitude, immediately. Ariella, I need you with him. I'll call you on our crystal everyday. We will meet in Solitude." I said as I moved forward to her. I hugged her tightly for a moment, before giving her a loving kiss.

When I parted from her, Durnehviir lowered himself so I could climb on his back.

"What will you be doing?" Ralof asked.

"Gathering allies." I told him truthfully, I just didn't tell him how I was going to do that.

I didn't allow any more questions. I trusted my friend to do as I said. I sent the mental command to my mount to fly.

Durnehviir went to jump, and flap his wings so that we could leave when an oppressive weight dropped onto us both.

I recognized it as Ariella's magick. Before I could even turn to her she was speaking.

"You are not leaving me here! I am coming with you!" She said as she reached into one of her pockets and grabbed the crystal I was talking about earlier. She handed it to Ralof quickly.

The entire time she held us to the Great Porch on the strength of her magicka alone.

"Tell Mirabelle she is in charge until I get back, and that we have done our duty to Skyrim. Tell her to take our mages back to the school. I will be the only one fighting in this war." Ariella told Ralof as she walked towards Durnehviir.

I couldn't help but think how much I loved her that she was doing such badass things, even if I was on the receiving end of it.

When she climbed up Durnehviir's wing and sat in front of me, she smacked me.

"How dare you try to leave me!"

* * *

It was obnoxiously cold at the Throat of the World.

Really we were higher than the Throat of the World, as we were flying to it. Durnehviir didn't let the cold bother him, and although I was a Vampire Lord, it still bothered me. So Ariella and my own magick combined to warm the air around us.

I hadn't thought to dress for our location.

Durnehviir began to circle the mountain, looking for our destination. It was a much taller and bigger mountain than the games made it out to be. There was no singular point on the mountain that made up the peak. Almost all of it was a peak. It was ridiculous.

Eventually, we spotted the massive form of Paarthurnax sitting on an especially flat part of the mountain.

His head was pointed at us, and his eyes were narrowed on our form.

"Land." I commanded.

I could tell that Durnehviir did not want to do such a thing, but he did not disobey me. I had allowed him two kills during a major battle. He was loyal for a time.

Paarthurnax did not fire a shout at us, nor did he take to the skies. He just watched us as we circled lower and lower towards him.

I couldn't help but notice that he was the second biggest dragon I had ever seen, behind Alduin of course. Even Durnehviir wasn't as massive as the old dragon on the ground beneath us. It made sense, didn't he call Alduin 'older brother'. Would that imply that Paarthurnax was one of the oldest dragons ever? Definitely the oldest still living.

We landed with a thump. Durnehviir bowed to the old dragon, who's eyes peered at him accusingly. I had actually never seen Durnehviir so ...submissive. It was an odd sight.

Ariella and I climbed off of the back of Durnehviir.

When our feet hit the ground, Paarthurnax spoke. "Ahhh, the interveners." His deep voice said as his eyes moved from Durnehviir to us.

"Perhaps I should call you devourer." He continued, but this time his eyes locked onto my own. "I can smell the dragon blood inside you."

Now that was an interesting fact. It was still lingering then?

"Have you come for more?"

That question actually threw me off. But it made sense.

"No, I have not." I answered. "I came with an offer." I told him.

"What is it that you can offer me?" Paarthurnax asked as his head swivelled back to Durnehviir.

"Peace, between dragons and humans." I revealed. This had been on my mind for a while. How many dragons had been resurrected by Alduin before he was slain? How many did Ulfric resurrect that he didn't send to fight us? I knew that one escaped from the battle. That made two living dragons out there roaming the skies. I couldn't allow that.

Paarthurnax stared at me then. It was a deep stare that looked into my soul. "But you require something from us, first." He correctly guessed.

"Yes." I confirmed.

"You wish us to fight for you." Paarthurnax once again guessed correctly.

"One battle, I wish dragons to fight alongside us. After that, I want our races to flourish together. I want you to advise our leaders, I want you to help us build a better future. One where you can teach the Way of the Voice as you please. One where we do not hunt you, and you do not hunt us." I said, revealing what I truly wanted.

And it was the truth. Imagine having dragons on your side at all times. Imagine integrating the grey beards, or the Thu'um into the schools Ariella was building. The dragon language didn't have to die with the Dragonborn.

"It is in our blood to dominate. We do not know how to build. We do not know how to teach." Paarthurnax retorted.

"You do." I disagreed immediately. Obviously he wasn't expecting me to know so much about him. "I'm just giving you the opportunity to do what you have always wanted, without being hunted by my kind."

Paarthurnax did not say anything for a long time. And neither did I. In fact, it was so long that I began to walk around the Throat of the World, until I finally found the distortion in time. The hole that the Elder Scroll had ripped into reality.

I didn't dare get close enough to touch it, or even affect it.

"DOVAH!"

I jumped, unprepared for the shout that came out of Paarthurnax's throat. My ears began ringing at the loud noise. I couldn't help but send a look towards the massive old dragon.

"There are not a lot of us left. But they have heard my call, and will return to me soon enough." Paarthurnax said dismissively.

"How long will that take?" I asked.

Paarthurnax ignored me, and looked to Durnehviir who hadn't said a word this entire time. But he had stared at the old dragon the entire time.

"Daal!" Paarthurnax shouted. Immediately, Durnehviir's power was cut and he was sent from this world, back to the Soul Cairn.

"This way, General."

I turned to see an old man, with a grey beard hanging to his waist.

"It will be a long time before they convene." The Greybeard said to me and Ariella. "You may stay with us until they arrive."

I turned to Ariella, with an unasked question. She just shrugged at me before replying.

"Vacation?"

* * *

"We will be there in two days." Ralof's ethereal form said.

I nearly cursed. It had been two weeks since I had seen the werewolf. Two weeks since Paarthurnax's shout had been heard around the world.

I had already seen twenty dragons arrive at the Throat of the World. Fucking twenty! I still had no explanation as to how that was possible. How had that many gone unnoticed in Tamriel? Were they even from Tamriel? What if they were from Akavir, or some other continent on this world?

"I don't know how long this will take us." I admitted to my friend. I had almost flown off of this mountain ten times by now. Every time I was told to be patient by Ariella or a random Greybeard I passed.

I spent most of my days thinking. Thinking about the legacy I could leave on this world. I thought about many things. I was not an inventor, and didn't know how to make any of the things that would throw this world into the future. So I thought of other ways I could influence the world.

I came to many conclusions during my stay at the Throat of the World. All of them, I shared with Ariella. She thought through problems with me, and provided solutions. Where there weren't solutions, we made love before thinking on the problem deeper.

You can't imagine how much you can do in two weeks of thinking.

"I will not wait. We can't allow them to gain more of a foothold in Skyrim. Hurry up, Hadvar."

Ralof's form disappeared.

"He is not happy." Ariella said. We stood in our stone room, which was furnished for guests. Obviously high ranking guests. It was one of the only rooms on High Hrothgar that wasn't bare. The Greybeards lived like monks.

"I wouldn't be either." I told her. "I will leave tonight, whether they magickally meet or not." I told her.

We were interrupted by a knock on our door.

"The dragons request your presence."

* * *

The presence of twenty-five dragons was intimidating. And should have been impossible.

"We have discussed your proposal." Paarthurnax said as we approached.

All eyes were on us, and truth be told, I was not comfortable being around such power. They could overwhelm us easily, especially considering that most of the dragons looked ancient.

"And your decision?" I asked curiously.

"We have denied your request." Paarthurnax answered.

I couldn't help it. Anger filled me. I could have been with my men, about to go into battle. All of this was for naught. I started to summon my mount so that we could leave the Throat of the World. I would not beg them for peace. All they did was guarantee their death. Even if I wanted them to live, others wouldn't allow this many dragons to stay alive.

"And we have decided on terms we would agree with." Paarthurnax added, stopping me in my tracks.

I looked at him for a moment before responding. "State them."

"I will act as an advisor to the current High King. The dragons are under my command and while we will follow your laws, they will answer to me in the event that they break them." Paarthurnax started.

Well that means I have to put a massive amount of trust into Paarthurnax. But a small price to pay. I had a feeling that his punishments would be worse than my own also.

"In addition to that, we are capable of hunting for our own food, but you will provide us with an animal of adequate size once every three days." He continued.

I nodded. Another small price to pay, and one we could afford. Especially when Ralof gets a hold of the agriculture industry of this world.

"You may have to be flexible there. We may need time to acquire the animals you ask for." I retorted, not giving in so easily.

"Agreed. We also ask that you include us in any future wars you may have. We are creatures made to fight and dominate. Any opportunity to fight will be welcomed. This is all." Paarthurnax said.

That actually surprised me. I had made a critical error in my earlier decision of only asking for one battle. Did this mean that they wanted to help us fight the Aldmeri? Of course I should have known that wouldn't go over well. They needed to fight. It was in their blood.

And that's all they wanted in return for peace? I had expected a much different conversation.

"Agreed." I said easily. I didn't even have to give it much thought. I expected them to value their prowess in battle much more. As it turns out, they were happy to fight. It was expected. Now, they were in hiding. But an opportunity to fight and conquer enemies again? While also having all of your basic needs taken care of? It must have sounded like a good life to dragons.

Paarthurnax bowed his head to show that he was done.

"I agree to these terms. Although you must know that the current High King might be dead. That is why we fight. Elves have attacked our capital. I will take it back." I told them. "Let us seal our pact now, in blood. Let us fly to the capital city, where my troops await to attack. We should arrive as they begin the siege. Help me take back the capital, and you will be rewarded beyond what you have been requested."

I looked around to all of them, eager to seal our pact.

"There are those of us who do not fight anymore. But I will allow the Dovah the choice." Paarthurnax said.

I summoned Durnehviir from the Soul Cairn quickly. He announced himself into the world with a roar. Some dragons looked at him with fear, others looked at him with pity. The older ones seemed to pick pity.

I mounted the back of his neck.

"To war then." I said.

I was answered with ten dragons roaring.

* * *

The first thing I noticed about Solitude, was the smoke rising into the air.

The second thing I noticed was my army, already having breached the first gate. There was a lot of fighting going on in the streets of the city. I would have to ask how they got past the gate when I saw Ralof.

The third, and most important thing I saw was the ocean in the background. There were ships, as far as the eye could see. Most were docked, but even out to the distance, I could see more approaching.

"To the ships." I roared with a magickally enhanced voice so that the other dragons could hear me.

We arrived quickly.

The speed with which dragons could fly was ridiculous and overpowered.

But when a dragon such as Durnehviir launched a full powered fire ball at a ship, that was even more impressive.

Ten other dragons descended from the heavens on to the fleet in the Sea of Ghosts. It was child's play for the dragons. There were no ballista on the boats. All the elves could do were fire arrows, and in some cases lighting bolts at the dragons in the sky.

I felt Ariella's magick grace the world, and I was reminded of her raw power. She was still the scariest of us all. She had more capability for destruction than anybody.

Lightning bolts of her own flew from her fingertips, to impact ships. Some blew the ship apart, others caused it to catch fire. Either way, they were destroyed.

In the next two hours, ten dragons and a magician destroyed the entire fleet of the Aldmeri Dominion. They were directly, or indirectly involved in the death of nearly thirty-thousand elves. I knew that regardless of the outcome of the Siege of Solitude, I had just crippled the Aldmeri Dominion for years to come.

And not a single dragon was killed.

The Sea of Ghosts welcomed hundreds of ships to its depths that day. And my nickname morphed from Dragonslayer, to Dragontamer. Hadvar the Dragontamer.

Hadvar took the city easily. Wuuthrad's enchantments came alive that day as they conquered Solitude back from the elves.

Another ten thousand elves, dead. Two-thousand imprisoned. I thought it was fitting that Akatosh's true children (dragons) had helped the barbarian nords defeat Akatosh's chosen people (elves).

This was not lost on the elves either, for the day was called Heavens Betrayal by the Aldmeri, a historical day of loss.

* * *

"Dragontamer, they are ready for you."

I stood up and walked the familiar halls of the Blue Palace, until I found the courtyard.

There, the Jarls of all the holds in Skyrim stood. They had decided to meet in open view of the gods, near the statue of Talos.

He loomed over the meeting, giving the sense that he was judging those beneath him so that they could make the right choice.

I still had no idea why I was here.

Representing Dawnstar, Brina Merrilis stood regally. She had her beautiful white hair in an intricate braid that ran down her back.

Representing Falkreath, Siddgeir stood. He winked at me as I walked in.

Igmund watched me with hawk-like eyes. I met them. He was still angry at me it seemed. Of course, he represented Markarth, the start of my story in this world.

Idgrod Raven crone stood for Morthal.

Surprisingly enough, Vex represented Riften. An interesting development over the past few weeks.

Ralof wielded Wuuthrad to the meeting, showing off his weapon as the Jarl of Whiterun.

Brunwulf Free-Winter was the new Jarl of Windhelm.

Kraldar was another new Jarl, representing Winterhold. Apparently he was very accommodating to the College.

And they were all looking at me.

"Hadvar Dragontamer." Ralof announced.

"My Jarl's." I said as I bowed my head. I decided I would stick to tradition for this, considering I didn't know what was going on.

All of a sudden, it hit me.

There was no representative for Solitude at the meeting. They meant to make me Jarl. My heart sped up, in excitement.

Once upon a time, I would have become nervous. But with my Vampire biology, it just felt right. I knew I deserved it. Few had done as much as I did the past year in Skyrim. Few had done as much as me in their entire life. And I was being rewarded for it.

It was a shame that Torygg and his entire line had been killed by the Aldmeri Dominion. And I had made them pay for that. But it worked out for me in the end, as bad as it sounded.

"You have discerned why we have called you here, then?" Ralof said. It was surprising to think he was one of the senior members of this gathering of Jarl's.

"I believe so." I answered.

"Hadvar Dragontamer, you have been elected Jarl of Solitude. On your knees."

I dropped to my knees immediately. Every weapon from the circle of Jarl's pointed towards me. Although it was Ralof that talked.

"Do you swear to lead the people of Solitude, and your hold, to the best of your ability?" Ralof asked.

"I do." I answered.

"Do you swear to preside over them justly?"

"I do."

"Do you swear to treat your citizens as your children, and raise them to prosper?"

"I do."

"Do you swear to uphold Skyrim's ancient traditions, and give your life in service of her children?"

"I do."

"Then Talos be with you, Jarl Hadvar the Dragontamer."

"Talos be with you!" The Jarl's shouted as one.

I stood, and looked up to my peers. "Talos be with you." I repeated.

"Now that is handled, we have a full court. All holds have representatives, and we can move on to the next topic." Ralof said. And just like that, the topic slid from me.

I was euphoric, but I had to pay attention.

"The High King must be chosen." Ralof said. "State your nominations."

I spoke first, as I already knew who should be the High King. "I nominate Ralof of Whiterun, for his heroic deeds in defeating the Silver Hand and bringing prosperity to his hold. For his monumental role in defeating Ulfric Stormcloak, the Last Dragonborn, in combat and bringing an end to the Stormcloak Rebellion. For sieging Solitude and defeating the elves as Ysgramor did. For taking back our capital. There is no finer man that walks Skyrim's harsh landscape. Without him, we would have lost to the rebellion."

While I said this, I met his eyes. He just smiled at me. It was a confident grin, but it was one that told me I was an idiot. I knew why soon.

"Thank you Jarl Hadvar. Now it is my turn." Ralof said.

_Oh no. _I thought as I saw what was coming.

"I nominate Jarl Hadvar, for his instrumental role in bringing peace to a hold that was not his own in Markarth the Druadach Mountains. For his bravery in interfering in the Challenge when it became illegal. For strengthening the ties between the Empire and Skyrim. For his victory at Helgen, where he not only defeated both Dragonborn in battle, but killed two dragons, one being Alduin the world-eater. For marching across Skyrim and bringing safety to our people. For breaking the barrier between nord and magick. For defeating Miraak in single combat, while fighting the Ulfric by my side. For being the General that brought peace throughout Skyrim. And finally, for making peace with the dragons. For sinking the Aldmeri Dominion before they could ever invade, on Dragonback. Everywhere he went his actions were those of a High King. Every decision made with Skyrim and her people in mind. There is no other more fit to rule. Hadvar the Great."

Ralof's speech was infinitely better than my own. And truly, mine could have been better than his, but I didn't expect to need to go into every single thing Ralof had done over his life. Ralof deserved the High King title, the others would see that. Regardless of his amazing speech.

The others were smiling at the end of the speech, and they all knew what was happening before I did.

"I would like to nominate myself, for.." Igmund began to speak.

I should have known he would have made a bid for the High King position. He thought himself so clever, riding off of my coattails.

"Oh shut your fucking mouth." Brina Merilis said, a woman I had never met before. "Hadvar!" She shouted.

Igmund narrowed his eyes at her. "Ralof!"

No surprise there, I suppose.

"Hadvar!" Kraldar said.

"Hadvar!" Brunwulf said.

"Hadvar!"

"Hadvar!"

The last voice was Vex. And she grinned at me like a cheshire cat. "Hadvar!" She yelled.

"Long live the King! High King Hadvar the Dragontamer!"

"Long live the King!"

"Long live the King!"

I could barely even react to the news, as Ralof approached with the same crown he ripped off of Ulfric's head. The Jagged Crown.

All I could think about as he laid it on my head was the first spell I ever learned. A spell that changed everything for me. Apparently all it took was a little ….

...Courage!

* * *

A/N: Boom!

That is the end of Courage… my Elder Scrolls fic.

Hadvar makes peace with the remaining dragons of the world, and uses them to decimate the Aldmeri Dominion. This last act propelled him into the front runner for the High King Position of Skyrim.

THERE WILL BE AN EPILOGUE POSTED SOON!


	31. Epilogue

Hello everyone,

This is the Epilogue to this story, but it has some pretty big implications. I won't spoil anything, so let's jump right into it.

Follow me on instagram at wtmcdonaldauthor!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

I looked at myself in the mirror. I still looked the same age I did as I took the position I now occupied.

My body may not have changed, but everything else had.

"Today is the day, my love."

I turned to see Ariella standing there, in one of her finest robes. She still had her normal blue grandmaster robes on underneath. Her figure hadn't changed hardly at all, despite bearing children.

On her left hand sat a ring. Although that wasn't necessarily nordic tradition, it was the tradition of where we came from. And we were both happy with the bands that signified our marriage.

"Today is the day." I agreed as I gave her a kiss.

"Let's go, wouldn't want the emperor to wait on us." I said as we walked out of the door.

* * *

"You have done well here, Hadvar."

We stood on the High Balcony of the Blue Palace. An addition that I had constructed during my reign as High King. It was inspired by the Great Porch, of course. It still did not live up to the view that Ralof had, but it did look out over the capital city of Skyrim. A city that had been rebuilt since the Siege of Solitude.

Some might argue that the siege was great for the restructuring of the city. Now it was properly zoned, with a plumbing system that was just as advanced as my last worlds, I would argue.

"Thank you, Emperor." I said, amicably.

"Tell me, how has your new justice system been going?" The emperor asked.

Ah, so that is why he had decided to come. I had made some changes to how the government worked in Skyrim. My past life had taught me many things about government and what it meant to have freedom. I had finally managed to make that a staple of Skyrim.

The emperor hadn't noticed soon enough. He had come to see a part of his empire split off, and he didn't even know it. Truthfully, I had expected him to arrive with an army. It would have never made it to the port, though.

"Amazing. We're still working out the kinks, but the people prefer it to the old system. Elected officials tend to do better than the alternative." I answered, confidently.

"Hmm. It breeds corruption, however." Emperor Titus Mede II responded quickly.

I nodded. "If you allow it to. You see, I still have power over all of this, but the people think that the power is in their hands. That is the most important part. If it runs smoothly because of how I influence it in the background, well that's just fine with me." I added.

We fell into a silence after that. I had many inquiries from the other leaders of the provinces, asking how things were going. I always answered the same, it could be better. Made most people stop asking questions truth be told.

Before the conversation could go on, a servant appeared at the door.

"The feast is prepared."

* * *

*Ding*

*Ding*

*Ding*

I stood up from my chair at the head of the feast. Emperor Titus Mede II sat directly opposite of me. No doubt he was angry that I was in a position equal to him. No doubt that was why he came to Skyrim at all. He wanted to put me in my place.

All of the Jarls were at the table, laughing and drinking.

They all knew what was in store. I had gotten permission from all of them beforehand, of course.

"Excuse me. I propose a toast!" I said to everyone in attendance.

The laughing and merriment died down as everyone raised their glasses. Ralof, Vex, and Ariella all looked at me with smiles on their faces.

"I propose a toast! To Skyrim! Twenty years ago, we put down a rebellion and beat back the Aldmeri Dominion, stopping a war that might have consumed all of Tamriel." I continued.

"So a toast…" I said while looking straight in the eyes of Emperor Titus Mede II.

"To the independent nation of Skyrim!"

* * *

*Jullian POV*

"Why did the emperor come?" I couldn't help but ask. "Surely he suspected something."

"Hmmm perhaps he did. Your father has not been particularly quiet in his activities these past few years." The white dragon at my side told me.

Durnehviir had been my graduation gift from my father. It was an odd gift to give a magician who only planned on teaching for the rest of his life. Although, maybe father knew we would be forced into a war soon, and gave me Durnehviir for protection.

"True. Do you think it will lead to war?" I asked.

The massive ship left the port, heading towards the Sea of Ghosts. I never understood why they visited Skyrim by ship, it was way faster just to go on land. Of course, with a dragon, traversing all of Tamriel in a week or two was possible.

He couldn't help but wonder what Sommer was doing. He had tried to help her get a nice position at the College, but of course, she denied. What was it about those that grew up poor that needed to see the world? She was one of the most talented destruction users in their class, and could have easily made a fortune enchanting. Instead, she wanted to dungeon dive knowing damned well nothing in the crypts of Skyrim could give her problems.

What was so important about Blackreach anyway?

"Almost certainly, it will lead to war." The undead dragon answered.

"Who will win?" I couldn't help but ask.

"You tell me." Durnehviir told him.

"I'm not sure. I've never been in a war before. I don't even know of our military's strength." I answered. Father saved those talks for his older brother, Alvor.

I used to resent my father for that. Now I know that I was the lucky one. I was allowed to choose what I wanted to do with my life. Alvor had been a general for three years now, and was forced to rise through the ranks the old fashioned way. Of course, nobody had the education or raw power that he did, but still.

He was all but a guarantee for the position of Jarl when father ...retired. It was so weird having a father who didn't age.

"The empire doesn't have dragons, Jullian. Will you join the war? You know how well mages are treated. But being a dragon rider, will elevate you even higher." Durnehviir enticed.

He had no intention of joining the war. Not unless he absolutely had to. And even then, it would be as a healer. He knew destruction magick of course, but he hated using it. If he had to take a life, it would be with the sword on his hip. His magick would save people, not harm them.

"I'm not sure."

* * *

A/N: Boom!

There I left it open ended, with an entire plot planned out if I ever want to return to this story.

Hadvar and Ariella had children: Aka Alvor and Jullian. And possibly more, who knows.

Skyrim found its way to independence, regardless of the Stormcloak rebellion. Although this time it's because of twenty years of work from Ralof, Hadvar, Ariella, and Vex. A much more stable time to do it.

This will be the last chapter. It has been fun everyone. Here is to my third story completed on this site. And over 100K too, not too bad I would say, not too bad.

Enjoy! Thank you for reading and all the feedback!

Till next time!


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